


Mystic Messenger x Reader

by Xoxo_Sadie21



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Yandere, Yandere 707 | Choi Luciel, Yandere Kim Yoosung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-07-31 12:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 85
Words: 54,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20115478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xoxo_Sadie21/pseuds/Xoxo_Sadie21
Summary: If you'd like to read the things on my tumblr blog, my irl is @connorshero. If you'd also like to request something, please do so on that blog as well.I only write female!readers, so please do not ask for any specificities~Kudos and Comments are very much appreciated. Validation means a lot to me, so do not be afraid to show me some love.





	1. "Come back here!"

**Author's Note:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

With utmost certainty, you could say that you have managed to shock your boyfriend to silence.

“Wha—” his voice cracked, “What are you doing?”

You trailed your leg up the frame of the bedroom door, the movement causing the shirt to ride up and expose the slight curvature of your ass. “What does it look like I’m doing?” The unmistakable blush in his cheeks made you giddy.

He was hooked; eyelids heavy and pupils blown with what you could only describe as deep affection that bordered on a new level of desire, of yearning.

“That’s…” he cleared his throat, eyes flickering up to yours, blush reddening. “That’s my shirt.”

You hummed, triumphant. “Yes,” you tilted your head, leaning it on the frame. “Do you want it back?”

His fingers tightened on the arm rest of his chair, knuckles turning white. He swallowed down a high-pitched groan. “N-no,” he clenched his jaw. “No, it’s okay.”

But, _oh God_, he wanted you to take it off, he really _really_ did.

“Are you sure?” You drawled, voice sated.

“Mhm, yup!” His voice was strained.

You hummed again, but this time feigning disappointment. “Saeyoung.” His eyes flew up to yours instantly as you caught the little quirk of his lips. “I think you want it back,” you purred. “And if you want it back, then you’ll only get it back under one condition.”

He seemed to come alive at that, glasses fogging up from how quick and heavy he was breathing.

“If you want this,” you winked, trying to come off as seductive and flirty; you’re sure it was neither. “Then—” you dropped your leg, “you’ll have to chase me!”

It was a split second.

He watched as you darted off in the direction of the bedroom, leaving nothing but your strained (yet still achingly beautiful) laughter behind.

And he was out of the chair before he could stop himself, almost tripping over his own two feet in the process.

“Hey! **Come back here!**”


	2. RFA + touch starved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write a lot of headcanons and preferences, as well as one shots and drabbles, so please be aware of that.

— _**Yoosung Kim **_

Every time you are around him, it seems he’s ways trying to find a way to get you to touch him. Whether it be making up excuses to hold your hand or asking you to rub his back claiming that “he’s sore”, it always works. And he melts just about every single time you do it.

Although, he does succeed in pulling off that puppy innocence and charm visage. He knows it’s one of your weaknesses, and he only continues to do it because it will get him whatever he needs, whatever he craves or wants.

Sometimes he’s not even subtle in the ways he wants you to touch him. He’ll blatantly tell you that he wants you to hold him.

— _**Zen (Hyun Ryu) **_

The type to pout at you when he feels as if he hasn’t been touched by you enough. Will straight up nuzzle you in hopes that you’ll hold him or run your fingers through his hair like the way you do to your own.

Much like Yoosung, Zen’s memory is hardwired into thinking he needs your touch every second of the day. He will approach you with the intention of never leaving your side until you have to force him away. With your consent, he will suffocate you with his attention. If you want him to lay on top of you, he will do so gladly and until you’ve made it clear that you need space.

He just enjoys your warmth and touch and the way you hold him when he isn’t having a good day.

Don’t be fooled; he is a puppy in human form.

— _**Jaehee Kang **_

Doesn’t know how to deal with it. She will literally stand in front of you as if she’s about to tell you something, but as soon as you look up and ask her what she needs, she becomes a stuttering, blushy mess.

Anytime your hand brushes against hers, her hand will automatically follow your movements. She will cling to you whenever she gets the chance; mostly during the night, when you’re already deep in sleep.

She never tells you she wants your touch or that she needs it like she needs her coffee. Lines blur when she so much as thinks about being touched by you; it makes her feel greedy—and greed is an ugly thing to harbor.

— _**Jumin Han **_

He could care less if he becomes needy. If he wants you to touch him, he will literally beg you if he has to. Although, it is a rarity for him to act out that way, you cherish him even more for it.

He will get random cravings, and if you’re busy (but still in the same vicinity as him) he will call out to you—he’ll whine if it will get your attention, and it’s the most beautiful sound too.

If he feels as if he’s been deprived of your touch then whenever he does get to be touched by you, the first thing that comes out of him is a purr—sometimes a hum, if you’re lucky.

— _**707 (Saeyoung Choi) **_

That type to get really emotional if you haven’t touched him in more than three hours. He’ll cry from the frustration it brings him, especially if he’s really stressed and hasn’t slept for more than 24 hours.

He doesn’t like feeling so touch starved, but it doesn’t help that your touch gravitates him to Earth. There’s a point where he can’t remember the warmth from your touch and he will lock himself in his closet so you can’t see him come utterly undone.

As soon as you hold him, he’s melting in your arms; his knees turn to jelly, he shudders and trembles as if he’s freezing to death—he always wants more of you and he will never get enough.

You are intoxicating and your touch gets him drunk.

— _**V (Jihyun Kim) **_

Shivers, shivers, shivers.

Somehow, he’s never prepared for the moment you touch him. Just the brush of your fingertips over his skin sends him into shock. Always leaning into you whenever you’re near by, always reaching for you, always thinking of how good you make him feel when you touch him.

A needy baby. He’s completely giddy and awe-struck when you give him what his body tenderly demands from you. He comes alive, his thoughts are incomprehensible, his desperation doesn’t go unnoticed.

Of course, he’s oblivious to how much he truly needs you. But as soon as you touch him, he falls to his knees.

He will forever be at your mercy.


	3. "I know you love me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

“You love me, right?”

“…what’s with that face? And your eyes—why are you looking at me like that?” His face pinches in wariness, an expression you are quite well equipped with.

You had pulled his attention away from his work as soon as you walked through the door, claiming that he really needed to change the algorithm of the door code—it was such a tedious task, you didn’t even know how to speak Arabic. It was stupid. However, his focus drifted when he caught your reflection in his computer, standing idly and oddly innocently behind him with your hands snaked around your back.

“**I know you love me,”** you give him that winning smile, the one that makes his heart do somersaults in his chest.

He curls his index finger through the string of his headphones, gulping nervously. “(Name), what’s behind your back?”

“You promise you won’t be mad?”

“(_Name_)…”

“Okay, okay!” You huff with a roll of your eyes. “Just…keep an open mind about it, alright? That’s all I ask.”

He nods.

“And if you say yes—” a charming, lopsided grin (it _does_ things to him) stretches across your face, “I’ll let you have me for an entire day,” he sucks in a breath, “in bed.”

Oh, god oh fuck oh, god oh fu—

“Deal?”

He nods again, but this time it’s rushed and a bit too eager. It doesn’t help that there’s a blush that’s steadily climbing up his cheeks, or the fact that he cannot stop thinking about the things he will do to you once he has you to himself.

“Y-Yeah. Got it.”

Your smile widens impossibly more and something funny coils in his stomach. Oh, right! He loves you so it must be all that bottled up affection he doesn’t know what to do with. Of course, there are days where it becomes too much and it drives him absolutely mad with desire and he feels extremely overwhelmed to even hold your hand without almost fainting—he’s _slowly_ getting it under control.

When you hold out the thing you’d been holding behind your back, his heart drops down to his stomach.

“Y-y-you—”

“I got a puppy!” You squeal, the sound traveling through the room, bouncing off the walls. He almost has to cover his ears because of how high-pitched it is.

“Yeah, I-I see that,” he gulps. “But _why_ do you have a puppy?”

A frown pulls at your lips and he feels as if he’d been punched. Standing quickly, he walks over to you with his hands stretched out wide. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” You murmur, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You smack your forehead, grumbling quietly. “I went too far again, right? I-I—”

And now you’re stuttering and growing flustered and it’s all because he didn’t think before speaking. _Hurry, make it better. Make it better! _

“It’s fine,” he coos tenderly. “We can keep it—him, her? What is it?”

“It’s a boy,” you chuckle beautifully, cheeks now the same temperature as the sun. “And I’ve decided that his name is Scruffy.”

His heart melts. How is it that, even after all this time, you still manage to be so adorable? Even the way you speak makes him swoon. “Scruffy?” his voice cracks. “G-Great. That's—”

Fucking adorable, that’s what it is.

He loses all train of thought when you start to coo to the puppy in the most baby-like voice he’s ever heard.

“We’re gonna be your parents now. Okay, Scruffy?” You nuzzle your face into his fur, face bright and blissful and—oh _Lord_ help him he’s going to faint. You’re just too cute and his heart physically cannot take it anymore and it certainly doesn’t help that his cheeks are redder than his hair.

“You wanna see daddy?” You offer the puppy up to him, using his paw to wave energetically. “Hi, daddy.”

He has the sudden urge to sink his teeth into his knuckles to keep the groan from slipping free.

You are going to be the death of him.


	4. RFA + wedding night

— **_Yoosung Kim_**

  * Takes you to a very fancy five-star hotel and y’all jump on the bed like children. 
  * Order tons of takeout and pig out together in your wedding clothes because—hey, you only get married once, right?
  * Yoosung will try everything in his power to seduce you, but he ends up embarrassing himself, like falling off the bed because he’s too distracted or trying to hide himself underneath the blankets when you start laughing at how adorable he is. 
  * Playful sex where you bump your noses together before you lean in for a kiss, giggling as he touches you in a ticklish spot on your body, but being incredibly comfortable with him. 
  * Cuddling afterwards. 
  * More eating. 
  * Taking a shower together in the middle of the night and washing each other. 
  * You both help each other pack things you need for your honeymoon; he takes you to your dream vacation (courtesy of Jumin’s money after he insisted that he’d take it).
  * You both are just so happy to finally be married. 

— **_Zen (Hyun Ryu)_**

  * _Wild_.
  * As soon as you’re away from public eye, he’s all over you, whispering intimate words in your ear about how beautiful you look while he’s fumbling with his zipper. 
  * Has you beneath him within a matter of seconds. 
  * Even though he would prefer to have you while wearing your wedding dress, he needs to have skin-to-skin contact and there’s no question about it. 
  * Spend hours pleasuring and making love to each other; he wants to cherish you on your special night. 
  * Begs you to stay in bed, wants you to enjoy the lazy side of life especially since it’s your wedding night.
  * Brings you some of the cake he stole at the party and feeds it to you. 
  * He ends up smearing frosting on your face and then leans in to lick it off you. 
  * More sex. 
  * Just—_sex_. He’s an animal, what’d'ya expect?

— _**Jaehee Kang**_

  * You are the center of her attention, her gravity; wherever you go, she will follow.
  * She becomes extremely needy, will shower you in kisses and compliments, just extremely gentle with you.
  * Dancing in the refrigerator light to an older song on your record player.
  * Just so so warm and in quiet wonder over the fact that you both are finally married.
  * Jaehee’s been planning this day ever since she met you so she’s really, really happy and she makes sure you know.
  * End up just being two fools who are foolishly in love.

— _**Jumin Han**_

  * The first thing this man wants to do is dance with you the way he would when he’s not surrounded by people.
  * You see a different side of him on your wedding night.
  * He’s more tender with you, he gazes at you longer (the way that has your toes curling), kisses you softer, sweeter— complete stranger; what have you _done_ to him.
  * Will literally sweep you off your feet and carry you to bed and then makes love to you in the most mind-numbing way.
  * Incredibly intimate and more intense than he’s ever been—holy shit he’s going to drive you to the brink of ecstacy over and over and over again.
  * He claims that it’s just the beginning, that he cannot wait to make love to you, that he will have you weak in the knees (which is okay for him because then he gets to carry you around all day and honestly what are the purpose of your legs).
  * Will do a complete 180 and turn into this alien version of him where he will purr and nuzzle his face into your neck and will speak the sweetest fucking words to you do not tempt him he will turn into a kitten.
  * You tempt him anyway.

— _**707 (Saeyoung Choi) **_

  * Rebellious children™
  * Double dog dare each other to do the most ridiculous things, and some of them are illegal. Okay, most of them are.
  * Kisses in between little activities; he hums so cutely into them every time you do, getting drunk off you each time.
  * Piggyback rides down the vacant halls of the hotel you stay at because there is nothing holding you back and you can never turn down anything he suggests.
  * Turns into a game of hide and seek, you’re holding up your dress with one hand while you clutch onto your heels with the other, laughing in glee as he chases you.
  * When you’ve both decided that it’s time for a break, he will take you to stargaze or watch the sun rise depending on how long you’ve stayed up.
  * Just a perfect night, honestly.

— _**V (Jihyun Kim) **_

  * He’s taking pictures of you every chance he gets because he just can’t fathom how beautiful you look in your dress.
  * Baby boy gets emotional whenever you share an intimate moment or literally anytime you smile.
  * Tells you he loves you every five minutes and you encourage them with little butterfly kisses, making him weak in the knees.
  * Will play with your ring because—holy shit you’re married and he’s fully grown up and he can’t believe you are his.
  * Softest love-making in the history of love-making; kisses every inch of your body, becomes submissive and let’s you take the reigns over him and just about loses it when you kiss him, you know, _down there_…
  * Stay up together, cuddling in each other’s arms while you whisper sweet nothings and give each other sweet little kisses—you can _never_ have too many of those.


	5. Loveback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung Kim x Reader

His hand was delicate in your own—_he_ was delicate. 

At the sight of the tubes imbued in his skin, your stomach coiled uneasily. If there was one thing you couldn’t fathom, it was seeing Yoosung this way. This very specific way… it was tearing at your insides the longer you sat there and watched. No matter how much you wanted to look away, you fear that if you did, he’d disappear. 

You inhaled sharply when he shifted, the heart monitor giving away to his steady heartbeats. It was almost enough to calm you down, if not for the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that this was all because of you. 

He was hurt because he wanted to prove to you that he could be your hero. But, what he failed to recognize—from the very beginning of it all—he was already your hero. He didn’t need to prove himself to you at all, and the fact that he felt that way hurt you greatly. He had to have known—he had to have figured it out by now that you were better because of him, because of that light that shined inside of him, that was brighter than any sunbeam. _He was your family_. 

It was only just the two of you in the hospital room, enclosed in the unfamiliar vastness—you felt as if you were being suffocated. There was only that small part of you that hadn’t felt trapped, the part of you that was hanging on by a thin, thin thread. That part of you was wasn’t a part of you at all—it was Yoosung. 

“I’m so sorry.”

_“Where is he?” _

_He gulped, the bob in his throat making it clear that he hadn’t been expecting you to march up to him like that. There was a fire in your eyes, one he wished he wasn’t the cause of. _

_“Seven, where. is. he?” The arch between your brows creased further, your lip curled. _

_“One-oh-seven—Room one-oh-seven.” _

_Without so much as another word, you shouldered past him, almost knocking him off his balance. He swiveled around, desperately calling after you. “(Name), I—” _

_But you had already turned down the corridor, the only thing on your mind was making sure Yoosung was okay. You’d deal with Seven later. _

The anger hadn’t subsided, though it did feel less suffocating. You had told Seven that dragging Yoosung along wasn’t the best idea, but neither of them listened—why didn’t they just listen?

A groan sounded deep in Yoosung’s throat, eyelids fluttering heavily, trying to force himself awake.

You lurched forward, jumping out of your seat. “Yoosung?” He seemed to snap fully awake at the sound of your voice, head swerving to catch your eye. You gave him a teary eyed grin, sniffling and clearing your throat, a choked laugh. “You—You’re okay.”

“(Name)?” He blinked once more, trying to swallow past the dryness of his throat. “What—What are you doing here?”

“I left the party to come see if you were okay.” You cooed, brushing your fingers over his forehead, careful of the white bandage wrapped around his eye. “You’re okay, right?”

He nodded, still trying to process what was happening. You were _here _and the poor boy was utterly speechless because you were so beautiful—so beautiful that his heart was hurting. And now you were crying, silent tears streaming down your cheeks like little rivulets on a windowpane; how could someone look so heart-wrenchingly beautiful even when they cried?

He wanted to hold you.

“Yoosung, why did you do that? You got hurt because of me and I just can’t understand why you would—”

“What?” His brows drew together in a childlike confusion. When you wiped at your cheeks, his chest constricted painfully. “Did you think I wouldn’t do it—wouldn’t save you?”

“Yoosung, you were hurt because of me—”

“Yeah, and I’d do it again. I’d do it a thousand more times if I had the chance to.” He croaked, feeling his own eyes sting with tears. His grip on your hand tightened, begging you to look at him when your head began to dip in shame. “(Name), there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you _especially_ if it’s to keep you safe.”

You choked on a sob, eyes screwing shut. “_Yoosung_…”

His face contorted, eyebrows furrowing as if he couldn’t understand why you were crying, why you were so upset.

“I will do anything for you. _Anything_.”

Your eyes slowly peeled open, revealing the crystalized tears that were stuck to your eyelashes. “…you would?”

“Of course!” He promised. 

A soft glow surrounded you inch-by-inch, lighting up your eyes and drawing your lips into a small shy grin. “What if I told you I wanted the stars?” 

And maybe it was the way you quirked your eyebrow at him or the gentle amusement in your tone as you brushed your thumb across his knuckles—Lord help him—but everything in that moment seemed absolutely perfect. 

“Then I’d grab them for you,” he whispered in quiet astonishment. 

Your smile brightened and before you could stop yourself, you swooped in and brought your lips down to meet his. His lips were warm and they curved into yours as if the cosmos created them just for you. 

You melted. 

The kiss was messy and innocent and overall beautiful. He was making little adorable noises whenever you pushed yourself into him, careful not to wound him further. It was cute the way he blindly followed your movements, eyes still closed, trying to capture your lips with his. 

You planted your palm against his chest to keep him grounded to his spot. Any further and he would’ve fallen off the bed. 

“You have really soft lips, Yoosung.” 

His cheeks colored a pretty shade of pink, blinking heavily, eyes heady as they refocused on you. Though, apparently that kiss had made him more bold because soon he had his lips pressed sweetly to your knuckles, pressing sweet little debauched kisses to each of them, sending shivers down your spin. Each little kiss was dizzying, intoxicating—how was he so good at this? 

Well, you certainly had the rest of your lives to figure it out. 


	6. Then, Now, Until Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen/Hyun Ryu x Reader

You tried to diminish the funny feeling inside your stomach, but every time your phone beeped—alerting you that it was Zen—it became more intense. 

You glanced down at the screen which was lit up with a notification; something in your chest faltered. There was a reasonable explanation for you, you were certain there was. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself as you gladly accepted Driver Kim’s assistance to settle your belongings in the back of the limousine. 

He gave you a curt nod then shut the door, shuffling over to the front. 

“Thank you again, Mr. Kim—“

The man laughed, face softening. “Please don’t be so formal with me,” he said. “Just refer to me as Driver Kim, if you’d like.” 

You nodded shyly, your cheeks warm. “Alright.” Fidgeting with your phone, you gave it one dismissive glance, catching sight of Zen’s message, and then glanced back up to the front. Driver Kim gave you a tight-lipped smile through the rear-view mirror, and you returned it, albeit distractedly. “How long have you been working for Jumin—sorry—Mr. Han?” 

His eyes flitted back to the road. “As long as I can remember,” he spoke softly. 

“Ah.” 

“Are you okay, Miss…?” His tone sounded worried as he glanced between you and the road outside. 

You breathed out a laugh, carding your fingers through your hair. “I guess I’m just nervous—“ your eyes darted over to him briefly, “—meeting Zen for the first time.” 

He nodded in understanding. “The boy has good intensions, an even better heart.” 

There was that funny feeling in your chest again, steadily expanding the more you thought about coming face-to-face with the one who, ultimately, had your heart (and your soul for that matter). It wasn’t a secret, wasn’t some big surprise that, from the very start, Zen was the one who made you feel nothing short of cherished. All because of his witty nature and caring personality—you’d be star-struck until the end. 

“Thanks,” you sighed with a half-grin. “But I know his worth, and I know he is more than just good intensions.” Your eyes drifted to gaze out the window, stuck in a daze. “Sometimes I can’t believe someone like him would ever find some sort of semblance of importance in someone like me.” 

Driver Kim remained quiet. 

You chuckled. “Sorry, I’m rambling—“ your eyes shifted to the rear-view mirror once more, “I tend to do that when I’m…well, _nervous_.” 

Then he laughed, lips quirking up slightly. “This is a judgement-free zone, Miss (Last Name).” 

Warm amusement flickered in your eyes. “Please, call me (Name).” 

He seemed to come alive at that, face straining against an unfamiliar grin. It was nice to be around someone who was so willing—and _utterly_ unlike Jumin that it was _insane_. There was some part of you that was thinking he’d be just like Mr. TrustFundKid; so full of himself and extremely difficult to be around, much less _speak_ to. You were glad he was neither. 

Your phone let out a loud _bing!_ that alerted your attention to it almost immediately. It was Zen, wondering how far away you were (and as much as you adored him, the more he began to ask, the more nervous you became).

You replied with shaky fingers. 

**I’m almost there.**

His reply was instant. 

**My heart is racing…**

Butterflies broke free inside your tummy, and you fought so hard against the smile that dared to strain against your cheeks. Alas, you bit your lip and let your thumb hover over your keypad, eyes zipping across the screen with ill-contained bliss. If this was how you reacted to his messages, being miles away, then you wondered how bad you were going to be when he said things like that in person. 

“May I suggest something…?” His voice was uncertain as he glanced briefly at you through the rear-view mirror. “If you’re comfortable with it.” 

You beamed then nodded eagerly. 

“You seem to be quite fond of Mr. Ryu,” his voice was laced with admiration. “Young love is…well, it’s young love—sometimes it strays the older you get, and sometimes you’re lucky enough to keep it.” The casual tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel ceased. “Never let go of that; it’s a rarity to have a love as genuine as yours.” 

Your eyes widened just barely, and that’s when it happened—a thunderous _boom! _as another car rammed directly into you from the side. You felt a sharp crack as your head whipped around harshly, a supernova of intense pain shooting up your neck so suddenly that it was too difficult to place exactly _where_ it began. 

By the time the car came to a sudden halt, you were hanging upside down, still strapped into your seatbelt. The world around you was fading in and out of the dark abyss of unconsciousness, but you were aware just enough to make out the raspy, panicked voice of Driver Kim as he pleaded for you to stay awake. 

It was easier said than done. 

You gave a noncommittal moan in reply, and then your body went slack altogether. 

.

.

All you could register was the fervid stench of sulphur and chemicals as it numbed your nose. 

Sirens, blinding white lights, frantic voices, the weight of something being pulled over your nose and mouth. 

You tried to speak, to say something—anything—but you were too incoherent, too delirious to streamline your words into a sentence. Even doing the most rudimentary task such as breathing proved to be too difficult and life draining. It felt as though your body was trying to warn you, trying to conserve as much energy as it could before it finally shutdown. 

You were quick to let the nothingness pull you back under. 

.

.

“I need to see her. Let me in—“

“Only family members are allowed to see her.” 

“Zen, come on…”

“No.” 

“Come on. You’ll be able to see her soon—“

“No! I _need_ to see her now!” 

.

.

“What the hell happened?” 

“A car came out of nowhere. I—“ 

“Do you know who it was? Did you see anything?” 

“I’m sorry…I didn’t.” 

.

.

“Zen, I take _full_ responsibility. It was my fault, and I should’ve been more diligent—“

“You’re damn right you should have, Jumin!” 

A hushed silence blanketed over the room. 

“Zen, _please_. Being angry isn’t going to solve the problem.” 

“What are you even doing here, Jihyun? Right when things start to spiral, you show up as if you actually care about her—“

“I _do_—“

“—you barely even know her!”

.

.

“I’m leaving.” 

“Wh—Where are you going?” 

“To workout. Jaehee, will you watch over her please, and let me know when she wakes up?” 

“Of course, but is it a good idea to leave?” 

“Seeing her like this…I just—it’s tearing me apart.” 

“…I’ll watch over her.” 

“Thank you.” 

.

.

“She’s still unresponsive, but I’m getting some brain activity and I’m not seeing any major brain damage—“

“Will she wake up?” 

“It’s entirely up to her.” 

.

.

It was the incessant beeping of the heart monitor that stirred you awake. You blinked once, twice, then three times, but your eyelids were too heavy, the lights were too bright. 

You lifted a heavy hand and shielded your face, but instantly regretted it as a wave of vertigo washed over you. Dizzy. Everything was dizzy, and you felt hot and sweaty and—

“(Name)?” 

A moan. “_L-Lights_…” 

“Yoosung, get the lights.” 

There was a shuffle of feet before the brightness seemed to dim exceptionally. 

“It’s okay,” the voice—a female voice—spoke softly. “You can move your hand now.” 

Not fully trusting this faceless person, you peeked through the crease of your fingers. And as your vision aligned, a face slowly but surely came into view. “Jaehee?” Confusion was clear in your voice and on your face as soon as you lowered your hands. In return, she gave you a hesitant—yet alarmingly worried—smile. It was strange seeing her up close, in person. Though, the fact that she was here brought up more worries, more questions. 

You planted your hands on either side of you and heaved yourself up. “What—“ you groaned, collapsing back into the pillows behind you. The sudden movements had proved to be essential when broken and blurry images flashed through your head. Your voice sounded so strained and _petrified_ when you spoke next. “Mr. Kim, where is he? Is he okay?” 

Jaehee flinched. 

Someone new stepped into your line of sight; a head of blond hair, amethyst eyes staring worriedly at you as if he didn’t how to approach. “Hey, Mr. Kim is _fine_, (Name),” he spoke slowly. “But we’re more worried about you.” 

Your brows came together in confusion. “…Yoosung?” 

He whispered an adorable little, “Hi” before lifting his hand and wiggling his fingers in greeting. 

“Where—“ your eyes zipped around the stark, vapid walls of the room with a panicked impulsion, “Zen. Where’s Zen?” When they didn’t answer, your eyes flickered between them in question. “Does…Does he know?” 

Jaehee seemed to snap awake at the orison in your voice. Her pallid exterior grew paler, falling and pinching into one of panic as she hurried to take out her phone. No words were exchanged between the two of you as she held the phone to her ear with trembling fingers.

But it wasn’t enough. Why wasn’t he here? _Why_—

Your eyes slipped closed as the erratic beeping noise of the EKG followed your racing pulse. It continued to grow louder, faster as you dug your fingers into the palm of your hand, most likely drawing blood from the added pressure. More images flashed through your head, and eventually, it became too difficult to breathe.

A strangled gasp broke free. “_Jaehee_…” 

Where was Zen? The more you began to wonder, the more it felt as though his absence was physically suffocating you. You couldn’t breathe—you _needed_ to breathe.

When you began the descend into hyperventilation, you knew that the only thing that could tear you away from this unfathomable feeling was having Zen close to you.

Eventually, you broke down.

The nurses rushed in shortly after. Seven, V, and Jumin all watched in mild horror as they held you down and sedated you, while Jaehee and Yoosung turned away because they couldn’t stand the sight of you in pain. It was enough that they had to listen to the gut-wrenching sounds of your weakened cries as you struggled against their hold.

Meanwhile, as your cries grew weaker, the nurses began to drift away from you. They explained to the group that it was normal to go into shock because of how much blood you’d lost and from the extent of your brain injury. Jumin tried to argue against it, that maybe you were far more injured then they let on, but they simply repeated that it was _normal—_that too much stress to the body could overwhelm your brain. And it came as a shocker to hear that you may have developed _PTSD_ from the crash, that it was a possibility your mind was going to be way more fragile now.

No one understood; they were confused.

When you woke up, you would be this shell of what you once were. You would wake up broken, a once shimmering gem now completely dull and grey.

And it made them angry—_no_—they were way past being angry that it was slowly seeping into something terrifying, something they had no control over.

Guilt became their friend that night. 

It wasn’t long until Zen appeared at the doorway, out of breath. Frantic crimson eyes searched the room before they landed on you. At the steady sound of the heart monitor, his shoulders fell as he exhaled a long, relieved breath. 

Jaehee stood and made her way over to him, ready to answer every question he had. And he did. He had plenty of questions; the first one being if you were okay. She’d been hesitant to inform him of the extent of your injuries, but she couldn’t stand the thought of him not knowing. 

“She’s been in and out of it for a while now.” The Doctor explained softly. “She’ll feel extremely lethargic when she wakes up, but that’s normal considering we had to give her a sedative.” 

Zen felt sick to his stomach as he noticed the state you were in; IV’s stuck in either of your forearms, an oxygen tube through your nose, and the white bandage wrapped around your head. There were various scratches and bruises that littered your skin, but they weren’t anything too serious. 

As soon as the Doctor left, there was a suffocating silence that followed. 

“Here.” 

Zen turned to the sound of the voice, partially surprised to see that Jumin was offering him a chair. He took it without hesitation. “Thanks,” he rasped. 

Jumin nodded, but that was it. 

Zen took your small hand into his larger one, looking down at your interlaced fingers as if the simple gesture had the power to give him more strength. It didn’t. All it gave him was a strong yearning for home, for that haven he was supposed to keep you safe in. No other human on this planet could possibly fathom the pain he felt, the guilt—this was his fault for not protecting you, for not being strong enough. 

The first of many tears fell then. 

And then he felt the faintest pressure on his hand. When he looked up, he saw you fighting to keep your eyes open, he saw you pouting. The most adorable thing yet it felt as though brick upon brick were being stacked onto his chest.

“…so serious.”

The first brush of your thumb across his knuckles sent his heart skyrocketing. A mixture between a laugh and a sob escaped him as what felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

You tilted your head—the image of soft. “Zenny…” the smallest of grins, a coo; a birdsong. “_My Zenny_.”

He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing debauched kisses on each knuckle, cherishing you like he promised so many times before. Phrases like “I’m sorry” and “My princess” echoed in your ears as you relished in the feel of his warmth on your skin.

Your eyes dared to slip shut in bliss, but Zen coaxed you keep them open, afraid that you’d fall into a deep sleep again. Yes, there it was—the _lethargy;_ the heaviness in your bones. You had to tell yourself not to give in to it, that you could sleep later.

When Zen squeezed your frail hand in his, it was enough to peel your eyes open. Even though he was a little blurry, you could still see him, you could still see the tears collecting at his eyelashes every time he blinked.

Your mouth felt swollen. “Why are you so sad?”

“I’m not,” he whispered with a smile. “These are happy tears.”

“Did _I_ make you happy?" 

Maybe it was the childlike innocence in your voice when you spoke, or perhaps it was the way you tilted your head, but if you hadn’t been holding his hand, he would’ve melted into a puddle on the floor right then and there. 

He brought your hand up to his cheek and leaned into it. “You _always_ make me happy.” 

And then you beamed, the expression scrunching up your face adorably, and leaned your head back into the pillow with a soft, “Yay”. 

“How do you feel?” He questioned gently. 

The grin quickly vanished from your face while your eyebrows came together in mild tumult. “My head…” you reached up to touch your temple, “It hurts a little bit.” 

Still smiling, he gave a gentle nod before words that sounded too muddled for you to hear flitted past his lips. With furrowed brows, you followed his gaze, surprised to see just about everyone in the room with you. Jumin, Jaehee, Seven, Yoosung, and even V—what was he doing here? To say you were shocked would be an understatement. 

They were all spread out around the room. Jumin sat on the windowsill to your right, Jaehee and Yoosung made themselves comfortable on the couch below the T.V. and Seven and V sat in separate chairs on either side of the room.

When Jumin nodded, you realized that Zen had been speaking to him. _Odd_. Were they on speaking terms now? Just how long had you been sleeping?

Jumin gave you a fleeting look before exiting the room, but now you were possibly even more confused. Why was he willingly going out of his way to help you? And more importantly: why was he actually listening to Zen? 

Then suddenly it all made sense; Zen blamed Jumin for the accident, and Jumin actually _believed_ it was his fault. 

You were about to confront Zen on the matter, but before you could even utter a single word, nausea clawed at your throat and your stomach constricted violently. Everyone made a move to help, but Zen was already reaching for the bucket and pulling your hair out of the way as you heaved. It was second nature, protective instincts, he supposed. 

He was already handing you a cloth when you finished, unable to ignore the embarrassment on your face as you leaned back against the pillows. 

You let out a noise akin to "ugh”, face scrunching up as the acidic after taste of your vomit settled in your mouth. Just as you draped your arm over your tummy, in walked Jumin. The first thing you noticed was the cup of water in his hands—he quickly handed it to Zen, who in return offered it to you with a wavering grin on his face.

“…_and_ the ibuprophen.” Jumin placed them in the palm of your hand then shuffled on his feet. 

You gladly took the medicine and swallowed them down with the refreshing water. When you were done, Zen took the cup from your hand and let out a long shaky breath.

“The Doctor said it was normal to feel nauseous—” V registered softly, shuffling closer to the edge of your bed, “—since you lost almost two pints of blood and have a concussion.”

A frown pulled at your lips as images flashed over on repeat of the accident. You jumped when Zen’s hand came to rest on your upper arm, averting your eyes to him in a split second. Realization dawned on you the second you took in the intense guilt on his face.

You swallowed thickly, eyes shifting to your lap as the avalanche of your trauma cascaded down your cheeks. “Did you, um—” you cleared your throat, wiping the tears away with your palm before giving V your attention. “Did you find out who the other driver was?”

His eyes searched your face helplessly, looking torn, _stricken_. He shook his head. “Whoever it was, they were gone before the paramedics arrived,” his voice was raw. “I was hoping maybe you might have seen something.”

"I didn’t.” You whispered in defeat, letting your eyes drift over the rest of them. "I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, this _wasn’t_ your fault,” Zen urged in a mildly desperate tone. “You have no reason to be sorry.” 

“(_Name_)…” your eyes shifted over to Seven as he stood, looking unusually distressed. “We’ll find whoever it was—whatever it takes. You have my _word_.” 

This time you couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks—the sight of them sending Zen into a panic, hands reaching for the box of tissues on the table next to your bed. He handed one to you, face contorting in worry. 

You accepted it with a faltering smile and choked back a laugh. “They really drugged me up, didn’t they?” 

There was an echo of chuckles at that followed your attempt at lightening the mood. Although it didn’t last long before you felt the uncomfortable shift of the bandage on your stomach along with the dull ache in your back. The entirety of your body was tender—and Zen noticed right away. 

“What hurts?” 

“_Everything_.” You moaned painfully then turned over on your side, careful of the tube in your nose and IV’s in your arms. You’d been hopeful to see if the shift in position would lessen the ache; your hands reached out to curl around the sidebar on the bed when the pain dulled.

Gooseflesh trailed after the first stroke of Zen’s gentle fingers down the expanse of your back. It was uncanny how quickly your body went completely asunder as he kneaded his palms across your skin and down your spine. The slip in the hospital gown made it all the more easier.

A noise that resembled a mixture between a sigh and a hum echoed happily in your throat. Everyone seemed to be well aware of the close, intimate moment and subtly removed themselves from the room, bidding their sweet goodbye’s to you as you completely lost yourself in the feel of Zen’s hands dancing languorously over your back. It felt amazing; back arching into his touch, an abundance of sighs tumbling past your lips without control—_more, more, more_, your body screamed. 

All you could hear was the sound of him shifting in his spot, causing the legs of the chair to grate against the floor. A whoosh of breath—he shifted again. 

“Are you okay, love?” Your voice was sated, perfectly relaxed.

_Definitely! He’s totally not imagining you writhing beneath him as you make you those noises. _

Even though you couldn’t see the blush that was steadily climbing up his neck and cheeks, he felt embarrassed. He was supposed to be comforting you not thinking about how his senses were going haywire because of the way you were breathing. 

“Y-Yeah,” his voice came out high-pitched. “Are…Are _you_ okay?”

There was a lengthy pause before you answered softly. “I think I will be.” His heart dropped— “Hey, can I ask you something?” 

“Of course,” his answer was instant. “Anything.” 

“…you don’t believe it was Jumin’s fault, do you?” 

To say that your question caught him off-guard would be an understatement. Truth be told, blaming Jumin was the only coping mechanism he had at that point in time. Watching you lie lifelessly on that stretcher as they wheeled you into surgery had taken such a huge toll on him that all he had left was to place the blame on someone other than himself because he felt it too much. he thought that if he could give some of it to someone else then he wouldn’t be able to feel like he had been unmade in some way. 

The sight of your blood soaked shirt, the chunk of glass that was lodged into your abdomen—he thought that was it, he thought you were going to die, to leave him. He didn’t want to lose you. Not when he had just _found_ you. 

“I don’t—not anymore,” he exhaled shakily. “I used him as my own punching bag because I was afraid of what would happen to you. I don’t think I’d be able to forgive himself if you hadn’t made it, and the blame I felt—” his hands falter on your back, “It was almost suffocating. That’s why I projected it onto him. Because I couldn’t bear it anymore.” 

You held your breath as you turned towards him. “Neither of you nor Mr. Kim are to blame.” You whispered, interlacing your fingers through his. “Please, tell me you know that.”

He brought your interlocked hands up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I do now.” 


	7. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

Euphoria is the sweet, sweet aftertaste of your tongue on his lips. It’s the gentle _bum bum_ of your heart when he lays his cheek on your chest—it’s _you_. 

He sighs long and steady against the whorl of your ear, blinking heavily as you shift in his embrace. There isn’t anything better than this, there couldn’t possibly be any other place in the world that could have the power to make him feel so… contently numb. It’s a sensation he often wakes to along with the lightness inside his chest and the constant fluttering in his stomach—those are butterflies. 

When he touches his lips to dip in your shoulder blade, and your entire body arches altogether before sinking back into the mattress with an artless sigh. He does it again then once more, urging you to wake up so he can relive the best part of his morning. 

You hum, body stirring as he burrows himself in your side, entangling his limbs with yours, dotting your collarbone in open-mouthed kisses. The feel of your skin against his lips is heavenly and he’s sure he can stop, even when you tremble beneath him. 

“_Saeyoung_…” You speak in a soft bairn voice, features pulling into an addled frown when he leans forward to touch his lips to your brow. 

He smiles down at you when your eyes begin to blink open slowly, lethargically. And his heart takes off at a dead run when you groan in protest, further shoving your face into the flat and smooth surface of his chest to hide yourself. 

“Hey…” He laughs, his breath fanning over your hair. “Are you going to give me my _good morning_ smooch? I think my lips are lonely,” you huff and he laughs again, “And they miss you.” 

You lift your head and peek up at him, and before he can comprehend it, you lean over at snatch his lips up in a knee-weakening kiss before pulling away and shielding your face back into the safety of his arms. 

Slowly, he blinks, his eyelids heavier than ever and the sharp—and surprisingly pleasant—sting of your lips upon his own makes every single cell in his body go haywire. 

He’s sure that his cheeks are the color of his hair by now, but that doesn’t stop him from tilting your chin up and giving you an even sweeter kiss. 


	8. RFA + types of soulmate aus

— _Yoosung Kim_

  * **First Words Soulmate AU**. Where the first words your soulmate say to you are tattooed on your skin. 

— _Zen (Hyun Ryu)_

  * **Red Thread of Fate Soulmate AU**. Where you are tied to your soulmate by a red thread. When they die, it breaks off. 

— _Jaehee Kang_

  * **Timer Freezes Soulmate AU**. Where time freezes when you and your soulmate are in the same room. Everyone but you and your soulmate are frozen in time. When you make eye contact, time continues. 

— _Jumin Han_

  * **Sharing Pain Soulmate AU**. Where bruises, cuts, blisters, and such appear on your skin if your soulmate gets them and vice versa. 

— _707 (Saeyoung Choi)_

  * **Light of the Heart Soulmate AU**. Where the center of your chest glows when you and your soulmate meet. 

— _V (Jihyun Kim)_

  * **Color Blind Soulmate AU**. Where you’re completely color blind until you meet your soulmate. Colors fade to black and white when they die. 


	9. Bear Hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

And there he is.

Standing and smiling at you as if you just happened to be the most precious thing in the universe. His features are drawn, his smile sincere and lively and you wonder just how much your heart can take because he hasn’t looked away once. It’s been five minutes since you spotted him across the room with his hands stuffed casually in his pockets. An imperceptive tilt of his head, a brazen wink—he is _way_ more attractive in person (despite being more than twenty feet away from him).

You exhale shakily, curling your fingernails into your palm just enough to prick at the sensitive skin. A nervous titer flees past your lips as you lift a lazy hand into the air, wiggling your fingers in a greeting.

His lips part in a laugh, and from where you stand, you can just barely hear it—a melodic sound. _God_, he probably thinks you’re a retard now that you haven’t said anything or moved much. It’s not your fault; his presence left you winded, completely caught off-guard. He blindsided you, the jerk. And there he was, enjoying the effect he had on you with nothing but a devilish gleam in his eyes.

_Get over yourself, (Name)… You’ve been dreaming of this moment for weeks_. _Just one step in front of the other_—

He takes the first step, testing the waters with a quirked brow. There’s the silent question of, “If I take one step, don’t you take the other?” pinched between the curve of brows, and your heart almost leaps from your chest.

But, nonetheless, you take that step.

And he’s taking the next, feet carrying him toward you until he’s merely a few feet away.

You blink owlishly though your eyes are half-lidded, vision hazy, expression dazed. Is there such a thing to feel too enamored—because you feel it now, you feel every part of you tingling with this indescribable emotion, something you’ve never felt before.

His eyes flit over you, roaming tentatively. When his eyes find yours once again, there’s an obvious bob in his throat. He’s nervous.

“Hey.”

“H—,” voice high-pitched, he clears his throat. “Hey.”

You smile shyly then give a flamboyant bow. “God Seven,” you peer up at him, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

A blush blooms across his cheeks, steadily climbing up his neck and ears. He giggles. “I’m more of a hugger, actually. So, if you don’t mind…” he steps forward, arms stretched out with a look of consent seeping into his features.

You accept the hug immediately, rushing into his embrace with anticipation. He’s all tender and light, holding you tightly against him yet careful not to squeeze you. The feel of his arms wound around you brings heat to the places he touches. Your cheeks and neck are on fire, burning with the hest of a thousand suns.

_This_, you think, _is what heaven feels like_.


	10. Pinkie Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung Kim x Reader

One box after the other. 

You watch with sad eyes as the movers stack the boxes on top of each other where all of your belongings sit. Melancholy fills the air around you, suffocating you inch by inch—you feel as if the world around you is slowly crashing down, caving you in, holding you hostage. 

Warm and slender fingers intertwine with yours, gripping onto them out of desperation. You look down, face contorting with affliction before your eyes zip up, locking with a pair of amethyst eyes. They’re bloodshot and glossy, the pouches underneath them sore from how much he’d used the sleeve of his shirt to dry them. He sniffles, expression a mixture between hopelessness and bitter misery. But he doesn’t say anything because he knows that his eyes can convey the words that his mouth refuses to let go. 

You plaster a smile on your face, but you feel heavy and weak. Too heavy and weak to even give your best friend a smile, to comfort him—because he needs it. He needs to feel that comfort, just one last time. 

The movers close the door to the truck, the sound causing you to flinch. 

Yoosung’s fingers reach up to caress your cheek carefully, eyes flickering across your face rapidly, jaw clenching to keep the overwhelming emotions at bay. “I’m going to miss you,” he croaks, voice like sandpaper from lack of use. 

“I’ll miss you too, Yoosung…” You reach for his hand, holding it to your cheek as the tears well up in your eyes. 

You’re afraid to let him go because letting him go meant that there was a possibility of forgetting and—you couldn’t forget Yoosung. You wouldn’t. So, you hold onto him dearly, you sear his eyes into your head; his smile, his laugh, his warmth when he touched you. 

“Don’t forget me.” 

Your mouth parts in disbelief. “…I won’t,” you press your other hand to his chest, letting out a long sigh. “I could never.” 

“Promise me then,” he demands in a whisper, face hardening. “Pinkie promise.” 

Your heart tightens in your chest, but you oblige nonetheless. Slowly, you stick out your pinkie and without hesitation, he curves his own around yours, eyes unwavering and locked on you as if you are the center of his gravity. You suppose in that moment you are—and he is yours. 

You kiss his knuckles softly. “I’ll call you. Every single day. Every hour.” The tears swim down your cheeks, “Every—Every _minute_. I won’t—“ his lips latch onto yours, silencing you with a bittersweet kiss. For a moment, you forget everything and the world falls away, leaving just the two of you there, in each other’s arms, out of the farthest depths of the world and right in the middle of it. You feel dizzy, committing the tender touch of his lips on yours to memory as he slips his tongue through your lips, massaging your tongue with his own. He’s kissing you as if it’s the last thing he will ever do—he won’t pull away unless he _really_ has to. Only when you start panting into his mouth does he realize he should stop and let you breathe. And it takes you a minute to fully open your eyes, to comprehend what just happened because that kiss felt surreal and everything around you is hazy _and_—

When your eyes land on him, he is the only thing in focus. So many emotions are bubbling up inside you that you don’t know how to react, you’re speechless and you are rarely speechless. It’s actually never happened before. 

There’s all puppy charm and innocence when he finally opens his own eyes to stare at you, eyes snapping between yours with lightning speed that you almost miss the way they briefly flicker down your lips. 

He brushes his fingers over his lips and lets out a happy sigh, eyes drooping lazily in sheer bliss. “I should’ve done that sooner,” he mumbles in a featherweight voice, pupils dilated. 

But, still, you step forward and curl your fingers through his shirt before your lips collide with his once again. He yelps from the sudden alteration, but eases into the kiss, this time more hungrily. In this moment, you want him to devour you wholly, unabashedly. 

You lick the inside of his mouth and he mewls into you, hands pawing at your waist. Your fingers thread through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp, but— 

You know this euphoria won’t last forever. 


	11. RFA + pigging out together

— **_Yoosung Kim_**

  * He isn’t self-conscious at all when it comes to you because you make it so easy to be around. 
  * It goes without saying that the first time you both pigged out together it was the most domestic thing you’ve ever done. 
  * Yoosung can be a messy eater, so every few minutes you have to clean his face, whether it be with your hand or a napkin, he always ends up grinning goofily at you because he just thinks the moment is really tender. 
  * He’ll do the same thing to you, but he’s more bold and will definitely lean over the table to clean your lips with his own. 
  * If he’s really in the mood to be messy then he’ll smother his face with yours, creating a further mess—dotting your cheeks with whatever was on his. 
  * Kisses. He’ll literally kiss you as he’s smooshing his face onto yours, hushed giggling, nuzzling his nose against yours. 
  * You’re trying to shove him away, but ever since he started working out he’s gotten more better at keeping you trapped and steady. 
  * By the end of it, you both realize that you’ve made such a huge mess that you just decide to take a bath together to clean yourselves up. 

— **_Zen (Hyun Ryu)_**

  * Pigging out with him is bliss. 
  * He’s the type of person to take a picture of what you both have on your plates before posting it to his social media. 
  * Both eat to the point where you feel like you’re going to explode—he’ll end up kissing or rubbing your tummy in order to alleviate some of the bloating. 
  * Zen has a huge appetite, so he’ll most likely eat a few more even after you’ve both decided you were too full to move. 
  * It amazes you. 
  * If you’re full to the point where you feel immobile, you’ll just lay your head in his lap and you don’t even have to ask before his hands are in your hair, fingers dancing on your scalp, massaging. 
  * Next is your tummy; rubbing it softly, humming a song to you while you burp every so often. 
  * You’ll make an off-hand comment about having a food baby by sticking your stomach out further—it ruins the whole mood, but it makes him laugh. 

— **_Jaehee Kang_**

  * She’s lived off of take out, so it’s not a surprise that it’s the only thing the two of you will pig out on. 
  * End up regretting it immediately after arguing over whose turn it was to pay the bill. 
  * When you aren’t looking, Jaehee will sneak something off your plate and eat it—and when you turn around, you give her the most suspicious look while she’s munching away, obviously enjoying whatever she’s eating with a shit-eating grin on her face. 
  * Food fights!! 
  * You’re the one who starts most of them by stuffing something hot down her shirt or throwing it directly at her face. 
  * You make a game out of it by hiding behind the counter, the couch, replying to her as if she’s your rival enemy when she asks where you’re hiding. 
  * When she tackles you to the floor, she’ll smear something over your face before bringing you up to attack your lips with her own, heedless of the mess around you. 
  * Leads to other activities then having to clean each other up before cleaning up the rest of the room. 

— _**Jumin Han**_

  * You practically have to beg the man to pig out with you. 
  * He doesn’t like the idea of over-eating, but you remind him that he’s in perfect shape (feeding his ego) and that one night of pigging out isn’t going to hurt him. 
  * He eventually gives in after being at the mercy of your puppy dog expression—something you know he can never turn down. 
  * You eat in silence most of the time, but he’ll give non-verbal brushes of his hand over a part of your skin every once in a while to appreciate the little moments with you, the domesticity of your life. 
  * You started a food fight with him once, but he ended it as fast as it came. 
  * He ignored you for a while after that, but once you fed him something from your plate, he gave in and ate it happily. 
  * You burped really loudly one time and the poor man was too shocked to speak until you whispered a timid _excuse me_ under your breath, cheeks the temperature of the sun. 
  * After that, you began to be more vocal with your burps, unaware of the way he looked at you when you did it. 
  * He looked dazed, as if seeing you act so freely made him fall more in love with you. 
  * You caught him staring at you one time, halfway through a burp, and told him that you’ve never heard him burp before. 
  * The thought of burping in front of you made him unpleasant because “it wasn’t appropriate” and you _definitely_ made fun of him for that. 
  * He burped once after that just to test it out during one of your pig-out sessions and it was the most lively thing you ever heard. 
  * You’ll never forget the color of his cheeks that day. 

— _**707 (Saeyoung Choi)**_

  * Pigging out together has become a daily routine with the two of you. 
  * Feeding each other is also a thing; so domestic, so pure. 
  * You pig out as if it’s the most normal thing ever, and feeding each other is just as natural. 
  * He’ll randomly have his mouth open, and without looking, you’ll feed him something from your plate. It’s the same with you. 
  * Sometimes you have to force him to eat other food instead of what his usual appetite consists of, and if you beg him enough, he’ll cave and stuff his face until he’s belching every five minutes. 
  * On a day when he’s too cooped up with work, you feed him while he works. 
  * It’s normal with him, that’s all there is to it. 

— _**V (Jihyun Kim)**_

  * The first time you suggested pigging out with him, he looked at you as if you’d grown an extra head. 
  * But nonetheless, he gave in and ate with you, albeit, still very much wary of the aftermath of eating so much. 
  * He mostly just watched you stuff your face, in complete awe of how much you could eat, but also very delighted in the fact that there was that side to you. 
  * V’s a surprisingly messy eater, so the first sign of a food crumb or splotch on his face, you’re giddy—offering to clean it up for him while he watches in wonder. 
  * It’s like taking a child to the amusement park or teaching one to walk. 
  * He’s just so adorable and so, so shy because he doesn’t want to seem like a fool in front of you. 
  * You end up watching a movie together while you eat, occasionally feeding something to him and burping and just being yourselves. 
  * So domestic!!


	12. RFA + thunderstorms

— **_Yoosung Kim_**

  * The first of many flinches happen when he’s near you. Yoosung is a very observational man; his senses seem to always be on high alert around you, always aware of you. He’s trained himself to understand your body language—and he’s surprisingly adept to taking notice of what bothers you and what pleases you. 
  * When he notices you flinch, panic flares in his chest and there’s this ache in his chest at the vulnerability of it all. 
  * Yoosung is very well used to comforting you, but it’s hard when he doesn’t know the reasoning behind your fear, your despondency. 
  * He stops what he’s doing completely—words lodged in his throat because there it suddenly feels like he has lost all control over what to say. 
  * He asks you what’s wrong, and when you hesitate he assures you that there’s quite possibly nothing in the universe that would make him doubt or think differently of you. 
  * Despite the warmth he gives, you still feel embarrassed by this fact alone. 
  * He reminds you that nothing will deter him from you, that he’s already used to you by now. 
  * You tell him meekly, flustered beyond compare, but still very much frightened of the thunderous sounds raging on outside your window. 
  * He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t joke. Instead, he gets up and retrieves his headphones and places them over your ears; the melodic and familiar sounds of his music filling your ears. 
  * And then he pulls you into him and makes sure you feel safe. 

— **_Zen (Hyun Ryu) _**

  * He tells you he’ll fight the thunder for you. 
  * After knowing about your fear of thunderstorms, he makes it his life’s mission to distract you from the sounds. 
  * First, he’ll put his music on the highest volume. Every nerve in his body is alight with hyperactivity—there isn’t anything else on his mind but making sure you aren’t afraid. 
  * After he’s finished with his charming diversions and frolicking, he takes it upon himself to start tickle wars. If you’re dying from laughter there isn’t a sure way you’d be able to hear the sounds outside, right? 
  * The house is filled with your manic laughter, and sometimes you have to fight him off which means—pillow fights. 
  * It’s good-natured. 
  * The man leaves you breathless from his sprightly activities and the sound of his laugh is enough to go beyond even the sounds of the God of Thunder himself. 
  * Zen comforts you with childish wonder and amusement. Nothing can possibly beat that. 

— **_Jaehee Kang_**

  * Jaehee doesn’t really handle well with anxiety. 
  * At the first sign of your distress, she visibly shuts down. Her entire body goes rigid while the neurons in her mind fire off with lightning speed. 
  * She’ll most likely be busy with work, having papers beyond papers stacked around the majority of her desk when it happens. 
  * You’ll be trying your best to get your breathing under control. 
  * She notices it—hopelessness infecting her inch by inch. 
  * With great hesitation, she’ll force herself over to you and wrap her arms around your shoulders. 
  * She’ll whisper sweet praises in your ear, rub your shoulders, kiss your furrowing brow as the muscles in your body tighten with each strike of thunder.
  * Despite your sensitivity to it, she tries her best to lighten the mood with jokes. 
  * If she’s lucky, she’ll get you to laugh at least once—if it’s a really terrible joke. 
  * It’s enough for her though, to hear you laugh, to see you smiling instead of on the verge of tears. 

— **_Jumin Han_**

  * Very much an observer, much like Yoosung. As soon as he notices your unease, he plans out the best way to approach you, and it’s usually just him casually walking over to you and bringing your feet in his lap to give you a massage. 
  * Occasionally, he’ll peek up at you when you flinch or shift on your spot, and when your eyes meet his, there’s already a smile on his face. 
  * He really tries, he tries so hard that it almost overlaps the fear and panic in your chest. 
  * If you still haven’t relaxed by the time his fingers and knuckles begin to ache, then he’ll bring the heel of your foot up to his lips and press a kiss there. 
  * It has you melting into a puddle of goo. 
  * And if that doesn’t work, then he resorts to other… _strenuous activities_—just enough to get your blood pumping loud enough to drone out the loud thunderous claps outside your windows. 
  * It’s safe to say that after, you’re feeling much better. And if you’re really up for it, you’ll go another round or two; Jumin’s always ready for you, so he doesn’t mind. 
  * He’ll gladly have you writhing and whimpering his name beneath him all night long, if you so wish. 

— **Seven (Saeyoung Choi)**

  * At the first sign of thunder, he’s already on his way to be by your side. Doesn’t matter if he’s in the middle of working, if he’s busy—he goes to you. 
  * It’s safe to say this boy already has something built up to drown out the sounds for you. He created it the moment you confessed to him, told you that he was there to protect you, to make sure you felt safe and loved. He said it was the reason he was there. 
  * He’s all for distracting you as well, whether it be him placing his hands over your ears and kissing your temple… or if it’s just a simple need to reassure you that you were okay, that nothing was going to happen. 
  * Pulls out his trusty book of jokes—always comes prepared. He’ll have you laughing until you’re on the verge of tears, clenching your thighs together so you don’t pee yourself. 
  * He becomes the cutest, most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. 
  * Tends to lather you up in his sweet kisses; nose kisses, cheek kisses, palm kisses—they’re his guilty pleasure aside from you being the main source of it all. 
  * He makes it all worth it in the end. 

— **_V (Jihyun Kim)_**

  * Takes pictures of you. Shows you his pictures. Asks you to be his model so he can focus on you and then makes sure that you’re focused on him and not the thunder that plagues your mind. 
  * The sound of the flash going off is enough to have your attention stitched away into his little world of art. 
  * Endless cuddles, words of great reassurance. He’s got the whole package, seriously. 
  * Comforts you by distraction. 
  * Fingers skating over the softness of your neck, your navel—he likes to use his hands for a lot of the distractions. 
  * Takes you a bath (will often take one with you), makes sure his distraction is working by washing your hair and scrubbing lightly at your scalp. You become entirely relaxed when he nurtures you with such tenderness. 
  * When you’re done and wrapped up in a towel, he’ll take your hand and twirl you around while the soft melodies of classic music echoes in the background. 
  * He’s a sucker for making you smile, so whatever it takes to get you to do just that, he’ll do it. 


	13. Steer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

“Hey, don’t hide from me.” 

You felt the brush of his fingertips on your jaw, flinching away but almost immediately regretting it when the throbbing in your skull grew more intense. 

“(Name)… Let me help you.” His voice wavered. “Please.” 

You inhaled deeply, shifting your head just barely enough to peek through the curtain of hair. He stared at you softly, face contorting fractionally as his eyes zipped from one side of your face to the other. You could see the panic welling up in his eyes the longer he stared at you—

You held your breath when he reached out, fingers trembling with grave hesitation as they skated across your bruising skin. You had taken a big fall in the hours prior, your face peppered in small gashes and purpling bruises along with a split lip. 

His face crinkled with a frown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in anticipation. He released a long sigh then touched his fingers to your chin, leveling your focus on him as he examined you with carefulness. “We should get this cleaned up, eh?” 

The jest of his tone was clear, but you were too sore to make any sudden moves. You replied mutely by nodding. 

He smiled slowly, sweetly, dimples sinking into his cheeks. “Then,” he held out his hand, “Shall we?” 


	14. Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

When Seven looks at you, the first thing that pops in his head is: _Precious_. You are and always will be the most cherished, the most loved, the most held—and none other by _him_. 

When he looks at you, he sees his own future in your eyes. He tells you this often—daydreams about watching you walk down the isle with that unforgettable white gown flowing behind you. Although, of course, he never actually has the courage to tell you about it; he doesn’t want to jinx himself. With you, there’s just no risking it. 

He will protect you for as long as he can because you are precious—worth it. 

This comes without a doubt that he will never expose you to his secrets, his inner demons, the things that truly tear him apart from the inside. Just the thought of you being hurt because of him sends billions of pinpricks over the rough planes of his skin. 

He shelters you. 

Sometimes, you feel like you’re being suffocated. But—

_It’s better to feel loved then not_. 

Early signs of dawn peeks around the curtains of his room, and Seven’s heart flutters in his chest as the sun’s rays encroach around you like a full-bodied halo. Your features are relaxed, serene—he doesn’t remember the last time you looked so peaceful. The sight of it causes a funny feeling to coil in his chest; butterflies, maybe? It is a familiar feeling, a familiar thought of affection where they often drift into more… _inappropriate things_. 

A sigh of content flitters past his lips as he sweeps the pad of his thumb over your brow, down your cheekbone, your chin. He skates random patterns over your skin where gooseflesh begin to rise from the ephemeral contact of his skin upon yours. 

You lean into his touch, an act of second nature, a meager pledge of submission. Though it’s only to him—_always_. 

He sees your lips twitch briefly, and watches as the steady rise and fall of your chest expands with more desperation. But your eyes remain closed, safe for the hike in body temperature. 

A trail of heat follows his callous fingers as they glide over your forearms. He lets his focus zip from your face to the way he’s touching you rapidly, unable to keep himself from looking at just one part of you. If he could, he’d give himself an extra set of eyes (and arms too) in order to take you to new highs, new pleasures. 

Instead, he settles for poising himself above you; elbows resting on either side of your face, thighs trapped around your waist—_this_ is what heaven feels like. It has to be. Between the way you’re skin feels against his to the way your expression softens tenfold at the licit nuzzle of his nose in the crook of your neck. He’s very well just about to lose it. 

You hum dazedly when his fingers ghost across your shoulder blades for the umpteenth time, pulling your lower lip between your teeth to muffle further sounds. 

He plants a feverish kiss on the bridge of your nose, face brightening when it scrunches up. “Good morning,” he drawls fondly. 

You seem to come alive at the phrase, but still completely aware of the proximity. There’s not much room to move, so you settle for shielding your face in the crook of your arm. 

He giggles at your weak attempt to hide from him then sinks his lips into your arm. “If I have to wake you up by kissing every inch of your skin, I will,” a coo so light, so warm that you aren’t sure if you dreamed it or not.

An unintentional hum escapes you. “That sounds amazing.” 

He chokes on his own saliva as a blush blooms onto his cheeks. “Oh—um—I can… if you want me to.” 

You lower your arm slowly, peeking at him. “Are you prepared to be in bed all day?” 

His answer is a swift kiss to your collarbone. 


	15. Carry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

You were _hammered_. It was obvious in the way you kept stumbling over your own two feet, having neither the will _nor_ the patience to keep yourself upright. Even with Seven’s arm draped carefully around your middle, there was still that chance that you would faceplant on the pavement. 

He held you close. 

“I can—_hic!_—walk on my—_hic!_—own, you know,” you slurred drunkenly. 

Warm amusement flickered across his face at your inebriated defiance, having the sudden urge to bite down on his knuckles to stow any lovesick stupor from seeping through his words. “Sure you can,” his grip on you tightened when he felt the slight wobble in your knees. “I would like to keep you from ruining that perfectly crafted face of yours.” 

He tensed when you peeked up at him through half-lidded eyes, fearing he might’ve gone too far. Flirting with you when you were sober was one thing, but flirting with you when you were drunk—which was a _rarity_—was another thing. A very _different_ thing. 

All you did was huff, the sound of it bringing a dorky grin to his lips. “I’m not a child, Seven.” 

_No, you certainly are not,_ he thought dazedly, fingers itching to smooth over the tender planes of your skin. 

Your words warmed him up from the inside as unholy images of you writhing beneath him filled his head. His name being the only words you spoke as you begged for release—

A fool’s paradise. He had to scold himself for thinking of you in that way; you were so much more than wondering thoughts provoked by desire. You were a fresh breath of air in his droll life. You were everything he wasn’t; pure, innocent. 

He glanced down at you, noticing the pointed look you gave the ground beneath you as you walked—no, _stumbled_. 

“Per—,” your voice came out squeaky, “Perfect.” 

There was every sliver of incredulity in your voice as it faded into a meek chortle. And you were completely winded that you tripped on thin air, the action propelling you forward, only to collide with something that wasn’t the ground. 

You landed squarely against Seven’s—surprisingly muscular—chest, faces merely inches apart. His breath on your face was warm in contrast to the numbing breeze, and the longer you stared the more his spectacles began to fog up from the proximity. And the more you were able to notice the blush steadily climbing up his neck and ears.

Then, _“Oops.”_

He leveled you with a look of exasperation, eyes widening fractionally before he swiftly scooped you up into his arms. 

“Hey—!” You shrieked and immediately curled your fingers through his hoodie. Then proceeded to stare at him in a drunken stupor, “What the fuck?” 

He released a throaty laugh and kissed your nose. “Safety first.” 


	16. Bed Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

Hopeless—you felt utterly hopeless laying here. And it definitely didn’t ease the feeling whenever Seven scolded you for trying to get out of bed whenever he wasn’t looking. 

_How was he doing that?_ As far as you knew, he was working away on his computer, the familiar sound of him tapping away frequently filled your ears. It was like he could feel you move, focused on the slight creak in the bedframe at the slightest shift in position. It only proved that the man knew you more than you thought he did. 

“Please show me mercy,” you cried dramatically. “I can’t take it!“

The tapping ceased—a wary sigh. “You’re on bed rest, (Name). Doctor’s orders.” His voice, although quiet, carried over to you. 

You huffed childishly, but reluctantly shoveled your face into the fort of pillows around you. Despite how irritated you felt, your heart still soared at the tender determination on his face when he peeked over at you. He was always so explicably soft with you that sometimes you wondered how you had gotten so damn lucky. 

He had you locked in with his unwavering, stern gaze, challenging your defiant competence that he knew all too well.

But you stared back with an equal amount of bullheadedness, face impassive and unwavering. You stared until you could see the bob in his throat when he gulped, until he was shifting on his seat. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I’ll do it myself—“

He was up and racing toward you before you could even swing your legs over the edge of the bed. “I don’t think so.” He replied in a sing-song voice, hands settling over your shoulders to keep you from moving further. 

You gave up struggling against his hold then looked up at him through hooded eyes. “I feel restless, Saeyoung,” your voice dropped an octave, “I can’t sleep! It’s _impossible_—“

“Would you want me to lay with you?” He spoke warmly, tipping your chin up so he had the chance to decipher your expression. 

You seemed to come alive at that as your bright eyes jumped across his face fondly. With an eager nod, you wasted no time in curling your fingers around the collar of his shirt and pulling him down with you. It wasn’t a secret that you’d been craving his attention all day. You were like a puppy who hadn’t seen their owner in hours, days even. When it came to Seven, you were a fiend, overenthusiastically seeking out his universal warmth. Sometimes, you wanted to suffocate yourself in his presence, in his scent (because he always smelled nice). 

He laughed, caught off-guard by the rapid change in flux. “Okay, okay—“ he hummed in content, “So needy.” 

You shoved your face into his chest and unfurled yourself around him like a snake. “It’s not my fault you’re always busy,” so faint he wasn’t sure he heard it or imagined it. 

It rammed right into him, over and over and over again until the cogs slowly started to tick. Was that the reason for your change in demeanor for the past week? All the times you reached for his hand, gripping it tighter when he shifted the slightest—you were afraid he’d let go. You were so touch-starved that it was taking a toll on you. 

He folded you into him like you were his favorite teddy bear, chest aching at the thought of you having to go through it all. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “Just get some sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 

Work could wait. 

For you, it could definitely wait. 


	17. Palisade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader; Jumin Han x Reader

Maybe it was his fault. 

_(I’m bad news, (Name). You shouldn’t want anything to do with me…)_

He shouldn’t have pushed you away, shouldn’t have given you the implication that he unwillingly wore his heart on his sleeve. And it was unwillingly – he never had the strength to keep it hidden, to keep it safe from the inevitable rise and fall of you. 

_(I’ll want you forever. Please, don’t–)_

He never should have given you up so easily, but the thought of your safety outweighed everything else. You meant too much to him that giving you up was the only way for his doubts to be at ease. Even if that meant that he couldn’t have you, you’d still have complete domination over his soul. Perhaps, even if his soul was too fragile to be held, to be touched with the tenderness of your hands. 

He watched on for weeks as you became obsessed with the idea of finding a new owner for your own soul. You chose Jumin. You chose him and he chose you; it was the perfect trade. The man was at your mercy within a matter of days and all Seven could do was watch you give your all to someone who wasn’t him. It was enough to make him sick to his bones. 

Jealousy was an evil thing. 

Blame became another factor in your league of absence. Every time he saw you with him, it had been as if you were twisting a blade in his gut. And every time you held his hand (the hand that wasn’t his), you were yanking the blade out. 

He tried to be happy for you, he really did. But there was still that part of him that couldn’t let go of you. You were just too important to him, you meant _everything_ to him. 

You were the reason he was still breathing, still trying,_ still there_. 

He just couldn’t stop _loving_ you. 

And yet–

Blame became his worst nightmare. 


	18. Cat Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

His excitement is unfathomable. 

Ever since you hinted at going to the adoption center to pick out a cat, he’s been nothing but smiles and laughter. You don’t remember the last time he was this happy. 

“You ready?” 

He glances over at you, eyes lighting up almost instantly. He nods and then slips his hand through yours – you can feel the blissful twitch of his fingers as they wrap around your nimble ones. 

It’s the best answer you could receive. 

Once inside, he’s like a little kid at a candy store; wide eyes and flushed cheeks. His eyes rapidly zip from one side of the shop to the other, scoping out for that perfect feline he’ll get to take home. 

A funny feeling settles in your chest. Seeing him this happy is enough to have you elevated for hours, days even. It’s almost as if it’s your personal dose of morphine, your everlasting high. 

He releases a happy sound before tugging you along with him, pointing at every little ball of fluff, picking out his favorites. You’re only here because of him. If he wants to pick one of the ugliest cats here, you’ll be fine with it. Because it will make him happy, and when he’s happy, you’re happy. 

“Oh, what about this one?” Seven kneels down, slipping his fingers through the cage. A white cat saunters up to him to sniff his fingers, testing the waters, and then ever so slowly begins to lap at them. It emits a childish giggle from him, his face twisting into one of sheer contentment. He coos. “I want this one.” 

It looks harmless enough with it’s mane of white fur and large rounded blue eyes. A near exact replica of Elizabeth the 3rd. 

Seven looks up at you with a wonderous gleam in his eyes. “Can we get this one?” 

There’s no way you can possibly say no to him. 


	19. Latch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung Kim x Reader

Yoosung doesn’t know what to do. 

You pace in front of him, wide eyed, stuck in an endless spiral of hyperventilation. The words tumbling past your lips are broken and incomprehensible – you’re having trouble streamlining your words into a full sentence before the need to inhale becomes dire. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, maybe he should’ve kept his mouth shut and kept you close as you had been before. He had confessed to you; open-minded of the outcome, yet unaware of how it would make _you_ feel. He wanted to hit himself – how could he not think of you before saying something so selfish? Perhaps he should’ve been a little less intense, a little less _lovesick_ for you when the words of his abiding devotion began to tumble past his lips as if he were reciting a love poem. 

Now, that he thinks about it… he had been extremely overwhelmed the moment you reached for his hand. Maybe that set it off? Maybe the thought of touching you makes him lose all sense of reality, of boundaries – had he been that distracted? You are pretty distracting, even if you aren’t holding his hand or smiling at him, or – 

“I mean, you can’t just spring this onto someone, Yoosung! It’s… it’s not fair! What if – what if –” you freeze and double over, desperately forcing air into your lungs as the ability to breath becomes nonexistent. 

It’s like an alarm goes off in his head. The moment he notices the shift in momentum, he lurches. “Hey, hey, I got you. I got you.” 

His voice is oddly steady, but even as he cups your cheeks, even as he anchors you to the ground, your lungs still fail to function properly. It feels as if someone stuffed hot coals down your throat; the fact that he keeps looking at you like that isn’t helping either. 

Still, he grounds you and goes in for the chase, for the everlasting high he’s dreamt about for months. 

His lips find yours in a moment of pure bliss and your mind fills up with the taste of him. It’s as if you have no control over your body, and your hands reach up to curl around his shirt. To steady yourself. Because your knees are all wobbly and turning to jelly and you aren’t sure if your body can handle it all; his scent, his lips – you absolutely lose it when he slips a tentative tongue into your mouth, licking the inside of it which, surprisingly, leaves you feverish and needy. He holds you gently, hands pawing shyly at your sides, mewling against your lips like a kitten. The sounds. _Oh, the sounds._.. 

If you thought your mind was restless before, you sure as hell couldn’t think now. 

You have the urge to wrap yourself around him completely, but before you can comprehend anything else, you pull back and rest your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from swaying. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead, eyes crossing as you look up at him. 

His eyes are closed as if he’s still stuck in that fever haze of skin pressed to skin. He still holds you, but instead of the gentle prodding of his fingers, he rubs calming patterns into the small patch of noticeable bareness. During the kiss, he had slipped his hands underneath your shirt, straying from the more intimate parts of your body and keeping a safe distance. 

He peels his eyes open, the vibrancy of his unique color brightening, reeling you in. But he doesn’t say anything. 

You breathe out, voice shaky. **“So –”**

**“Yeah?”** His voice is unrecognizable, thick with something raw and unnatural. 

**“Well, you _kissed_ me.” **

A small grin tugs at the corners of his lips. Boyish, timid, still very much lovesick. **“I…I guess I did.” **

You laugh and the sound has him winded within seconds, milliseconds even. When you notice the hesitation across his face, yours softens imperceptibly. “Thank you.” 

You aren’t sure what he’s thinking, but there’s a visible gleam of warm amusement in his eyes as he pulls you in for another kiss. 


	20. You See Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Luciel Choi/Saeyoung Choi x Reader

“If you’re having a hard time, if you need anything, just come out and wave to the camera. I’m watching. I’m _always_ watching for you.” 

You breathe out a laugh, holding the phone closer to your ear. “Thank you.” The words are genuine and it’s as if you don’t recognize the sound of your own voice through the thickness of them. Seven means a lot to you… he means - _everything_. 

The sound of things clashing and clinking to the floor catch your attention, you can hear the squeak of his chair as if he swiveled in it. He chokes out a timid laugh before clearing his throat. “You know I mean it,” he whispers back, his voice raw. “I don’t just say that to anyone. You’re apart of this deranged little family now, and family are supposed to watch out for each other. I’m only doing my part in watching out for you.” 

You laugh again. “Through a CCTV camera. I don’t even know what you look like.” _But you see me_… the thought races in your mind, cheeks burning. Just the thought of him watching you sends a wave of anticipation through your veins, causing you to shiver instinctively. You know his views on the matter, you know he’s hesitant about - well, everything; you being the majority of it because quite frankly the two of you have been growing close, closer than you are with Yoosung, Jaehee, Zen, Jumin and V. So, you set your boundaries, it’s not such a bad reprieve, if not for the pinching realization that you’re overwhelmingly fond of him. 

He sighs, a throaty noise itching at the back of his throat as if he’s trying to hold himself back. “You will,” he jests meekly. “At the party, remember?” 

Right. You’ll get to see him in exactly a week from now. For the first time no less. And just by the mere thought of it all, you feel lightheaded. You have to scold yourself for harboring such a messy crush on him; you should be focusing on planning, on anything but what it’s like to be… _his_. 

“Yeah,” you pick at the loose string on your hoodie, trying to keep up that healthy guise. But, is it so bad to dream? You opt to change the subject. “You should sleep soon. It’s -” you cast a glance at the time on your phone, “Late. Wow, it’s really late. How long have we been talking?” 

“Two hours and thirty-two minutes.” 

_He counted._

You can’t help the goofy grin from peeking onto your face. “Someone’s perceptive.” 

“With you? Always.” His voice is laced heavily with - you can’t quite decipher it; fatigue? Affection, maybe? It’s tender and light and you find yourself sinking into your mattress, keeping the phone pressed tightly to your ear. 

A quiet yawn escapes you. “Hey, Seven?” 

He hums delicately, releasing one of his own little yawns. 

“Can you… stay on the phone with me? I don’t…” What? You don’t want to be alone, where your thoughts can plague you like an infectious disease? You sigh. Or it is perhaps the sound of his voice lulls you into a deep stasis of content? 

“I’ll stay.” He replies, voice small yet full of understanding. “Get some sleep, (Name).” 

And, soon, you fall into a peaceful slumber, knowing your dreamcatcher is not too far away. 


	21. What It's Like to Date Zen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen | Hyun Ryu x Reader

_DATING ZEN (HYUN RYU) HEADCANONS_

  * He’s a big puppy around you, a totally different person from how he acts around everyone else. When it’s just the two of you, he is utterly at your mercy. He will agree to do anything you ask without question – he’s an absolute sucker for you. 
  * Waking up next to him is the best thing in the world. Between waking up with his face pressed into your chest and your limbs tangled with his, you find it tremendously tender. 
  * You make each other breakfast; you have a routine for that. On some days he is the one to make it for you, and on other days, you make it for him. When neither of you want to cook, he does other… intimate things instead. Waking up with his face between your thighs has proven to be the parts of your morning. 
  * He cherishes you. Everyday. Everyone can see the emotional toll you’ve taken on him. He becomes this strange new person. He acts differently. He cares more powerfully. Mostly all for you, but it’s still a huge change. 
  * You are each other’s life support. If there is a day where you fill completely drained, Zen does everything in his power to make you feel better. It works half the time, and he especially knows when to give you space. 
  * On days where he’s not with you, and he’s busy with work, you feel lonely. Sometimes you’ll stoop low enough to get angry with him (even though you know you shouldn’t), and you’ll ignore him. Feeling alone isn’t something you know how to handle; you act irrationally and Zen being understanding knows how to handle _you_. 
  * There are times where he will drop everything he is doing and be at your side. Whether he’s busy or not, he knows that you’d never intentionally keep him away from his career. 
  * Your relationship is playful. Zen knows when to be serious with you, but he also knows that rough-housing and playfulness helps build what you have with each other. 
  * He’s always the playful prince. He’ll start tickle fights at the most random times; when you cook, when you’re reading, when you’re taking baths together. And he likes to give you piggyback rides, too. Always looking for a way to make you laugh. Because he loves your laugh; he thinks it’s the best thing he’s ever heard honestly. 
  * When he kisses you, he either kissing you as if he’s starved or he’ll be mind-numbingly gentle and slow(sometimes he kisses you so slow it’s enough to have you dizzy and weak in the knees). There’s also times where he’ll give you a quick smooch and it’ll turn into endless little kisses peppered across your face. Nose kisses are his favorite. Although, in bed he usually likes to kiss the tender spot on the inside of your thighs; it’s safe to say that there are an innumerable amount of hickeys there. 
  * Moral and emotional support comes easy to the both of you. You’re each other’s safe haven. When he needs you, you become his best friend and vice versa. But what really does it for him is how affectionate you are when he’s in distress. And how sensitive you become. He is the, most of the time, the same way with you. But his intensions are quite frankly more on the idea of getting you to forget all your struggles. He will completely drown himself in you, pleasure you until you can’t remember your own name. He has an incredibly high sex drive, and overstimulation is his _specialty_. 
  * Lazy days become your opportunity to do things you’ve never done before. Like traveling to exotic places; he’s taken you to a strip club before and to say you were flustered during the entire time is an understatement. He loves seeing you that way. 
  * When he notices you’re flustered, he always makes it his mission to make you squirm; hot and bothered underneath his intense gaze. 
  * He makes love to you, no matter how wild his passion can be. Making love to you is the way to your heart and when you ask for something different he isn’t against caving under your demands. 
  * Zen is also someone who will get overprotective of you before the idea of being possessive becomes an option. 
  * He will always treat you with respect and will always listen to what you have to say. 
  * Arguing with him is an emotional roller-coaster. It’s intense, and he becomes heartbreakingly vulnerable in front of you. You hate seeing him so upset, and often he will get teary-eyed, but he never likes to cry in front of you. It’s the same way with him; he would rather gouge his own eyes out then witness the tears falling down your cheeks. And the sounds you make tear him apart; he usually wallows in guilt for hours, sometimes days, when knowing that he made you cry. 
  * You’re both really sensitive when it comes to each other, but being strong for one another comes as easy as 1,2,3. 


	22. Intoxicate Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung Choi/Luciel Choi x Reader
> 
> [Mild Mature & Suggestive Themes]

One kiss, two kiss. One on your collarbone, another on your jaw, your cheek, your nose. 

He let out a happy little hum, his lips curving up into that goofy little grin you adored so damn much. “I love you.” 

Your fingers curled through the red tufts of his hair, drawing a shaky breath from him in return. When his lips touched your jugular, your body went still, going slack as soon as he nuzzled his face there. You were in complete bliss from the warmth of his lips on your skin, but he pulled back before you could do much of anything else, holding himself up with his arms on either side of your head. The expression on his face was insatiable though it was the perfect blend into the softness and the bright pink color of his cheeks. 

He touched his lips to your forehead, blowing a raspberry. Cute. 

The delicate gesture had your cheeks heating up in surprise. His lips lingered for a brief moment, pulling back only to stare back down at you with that look again. The one that released the entire zoo inside of your tummy; he had a way to unleash emotions you never knew existed inside of you. It was terrifying. 

He let out a low groan, his expression hopeless as his jaw clenched as if he were trying to hold back too many feelings all at once. It looked uncomfortable, but his voice remained tender. “You’re too beautiful, you know that?” 

You bit your lip shyly and his eyes followed the movement with prolonged perception. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, bumping his nose with yours affectionately. “And it’s driving me _crazy_.” His voice came out in broken, sporadic pants as he breathed deeply against the shell of your ear. One of his hands slid down the length of your bare thigh, skimming across the smooth planes of your skin while he held himself up with the other. And you shuddered, blinking heavily, feeling your body go completely lax underneath him. He burrowed his face deeper into the crook of your neck, emitting an involuntary gasp of pleasure from you when he lapped deliciously at the sensitive spot on your neck before nibbling lightly. 

He was gentle and sweet and always so full of restraint when it came to you, never once losing control unless you wanted him to. However, right now, you wanted him to let go. You wanted that so bad that it frustrated you to no end when you realized that you weren’t allowed to do exactly that. 

“Saeyoung…” you whined. “I can’t—we can’t.” You laid your palm flat against his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he attempted to hold himself together. “I’m on my period, remember? And you can’t tease me like that, it’s not fair.” 

He looked completely dazed as he blinked sluggishly. But that stupid grin was back on his face, leering closer then promptly capturing your lips with his. He kissed you until you were panting into his mouth, until he could feel them grow swollen. 

He was like a needy baby. 

“We don’t have to go all the way,” he whispered huskily into your mouth. Kiss after dizzying kiss, you began to feel yourself grow immobile; one more second and you’ll be willingly giving yourself over to him. “We can just—” he tasted the inside of your mouth, exploring it with his tongue, “take things slow.” 

You mewled, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades which elicited a groan from him. He rutted his hips into yours, the feel of his erection brushing over you while your clitoris pulsed from the friction. 

It was so easy to lose yourself in him; it was a curse and a blessing. 

“Then we’ll just end up—” your back arched into his touch, “wanting more of each other.” 

You were right; he was always going to want more of you. It was unavoidable—_you were intoxicating_. 

He whimpered deep in his throat, exhaling with a tremble. _Pull away, pull away, pull away, goddamnit! _No matter how badly he wanted you, he wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable and he knew that by continuing would only aggravate you even more because he knew that you were twice as horny when you were on your period. 

His body convulsed, but he forced himself away, letting out a low curse before crouching in between your thighs. He watched on in rapture when you heaved yourself up with your elbows, out of breath, expression filled with a waning lust. 

“Just two more days,” you breathed. “Two more days.” 

He didn’t know how much longer he could take.


	23. "Wanna know what rhymes with drunk? Sex."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung Choi/Luciel Choi x Reader
> 
> [Suggestive Themes]

“You’re drunk.” 

“’M not.” 

“Are too.”

You gave a half-attempt at a scoff, turning back around to stare down the clear liquid—why was tequila so clear? You didn’t understand it. Although, despite all of that, you still preferred it’s acidic taste over any other hard liquor you’ve drank, and you’ve drank a lot. A functioning alcoholic, some would say. Some was Jumin. However, he preferred his red wine—what a loser. You snorted. With an unsteady hand, you gripped the glass and downed the drink, face scrunching up when the alcohol burned on its way down your throat. Not an unfamiliar feeling, though. If anything, you were used to it. It was nice. Odd, but nice. 

Saeyoung sighed from beside you, leaning his chin on his palm as he watched you silently. He was supposed to be giving you a ride back to the apartment, Rika’s apartment, but you weren’t obliging as easily as he thought you would. As soon as he showed up, breathless as if he’s just run a marathon (you had him worried sick), you were nothing but charming—adorably so. He couldn’t quite get over the fact that you’d been weirdly clingy; fingertips brushing across his skin, leaning into his side whenever he told a very lame, and not funny at all, joke. You seemed to enjoy them though and it made him very happy to see you letting go even if your safety meant more to him. 

You giggled again, shifting in your spot so you were facing him. “Sae—“ you swayed, giggling once more as his hands shot out to ground you, “**Wanna know what rhymes with drunk?**” You waggled your eyebrows, leaning dangerously close to the boy, whose glasses were now fogging up just as much as his brain was from how close you were to him and you reeked of tequila—but God what he would give to taste it with his lips. “**Sex**.” 

Snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in (no thanks to you), he gave you a look of confusion. “I’m sorry—what?” 

“Saeyoung.” You sang, leaning your head on his chest, looking up at him with the most goofiest grin that left him feening. “Come on.” You whispered, fingers tiptoeing between his thighs. “You know what I want—”

He squeaked out, reaching for your hand with reddening cheeks. “_Ah_—hey! No, no, no. Lets not do that, okay?” 

You held his hand instead, smirking as his became more and more flustered. 

He could do this. It wasn’t like it was intimate, right? Holding your hand wasn’t so bad. In fact, he was sure he could feel himself sinking further into your warmth. 

This wasn’t intimate at all. 


	24. "You're legally obligated to keep holding me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung Choi/Luciel Choi x Reader

Seven felt hopeless. 

He watched you from the CCTV, where he was able to hear the silent weeping coming from Rika’s apartment. Even though, he couldn’t see you—at least not fully—he could picture you with your knees hugged to your chest, chin resting on them as you wept and sniffled. Every time you choked on your cries, his heart would break, his hand gripping the mouse because he had to grip something, anything that would ease the misery he felt for you. 

He decided right then and there that if there was one thing in the entire world that he truly hated, it was hearing you cry. 

You had just woken up from a night terror, the sound of your harsh sobs had jolted him awake; head snapping up from having been pressed into the keyboard—he had fallen asleep at his desk. When he realized that you were struggling to breathe, it took everything not to panic, although it was bound to happen anyway. Seeing you like that… it had definitely tore him apart. 

And now his fingers were struggling to reach for his phone, eyes flickering back and forth between his computer and his phone. Before he could stop himself, he was dialing your number, waiting with bated breath until you picked up. 

You answered on the third ring. “Luciel?” He didn’t know why, but you were the only one he felt comfortable with letting you call him that. It put him at instant ease. 

“H-Hey,” he breathed. “Are—Are you okay? I heard…” 

You gave a nazelly chuckle; he could just picture the tears falling down your cheeks and the smile that crossed your lips at his concern. “Yeah, just a nightmare.” 

“Sounded worse than a just a nightmare…” He laid his head on his forearm, staring up at the footage. It wasn’t long before your face came into view as you stared up at the CCTV, giving him an appreciative smile. 

“I’m fine, my love.” 

His heart ached. 

“You can go back to sleep.” 

No. No, he couldn’t just leave you like that—he wouldn’t. 

“No,” he pressed. “No. **If I’m going to love you, I need to do it right**.” 

Your brows furrowed. “_Luciel_…” 

“I’m coming over.” 

Your face paled, eyes widening. “What—? Sweetheart, you don’t—” 

“I’ll be there soon.” And then he hung up, watching your reaction through the CCTV briefly, the sight of your gaping mouth almost comical. 

You could feel the panic start to rise in your chest, bubbling up like steam from a coffee pot. You hadn’t realized you were chewing on your fingernails until you had bitten off a part of the skin. With a hiss, you pulled your hand up to examine, seeing little blood—

The doorbell rang, startling you. You hesitated. 

“(Name), it’s me.” 

You released a heavy breath of relief then, forgetting about your bleeding fingernail, walked over to let him inside. You stepped back, but hadn’t gotten far enough before he was pulling you into his arms. It was pathetic to think so, but as soon as he held you, everything sort of just felt okay again, if only for a moment. Being in his arms did something to you, something unimaginable, something you’ve never felt before and you didn’t know how to deal with the aftermath of this. 

He kissed the top of your head, breathing out a soft laugh when you tried to pull away. “**You’re legally obligated to keep holding me**.” Plus, holding you felt really nice; it was almost as if he was gluing himself back together, as if you were the missing puzzle piece he’d been searching for. 

“I can’t believe you actually came.” Your voice was small and weak. 

Your words slammed right into him, relentlessly. He pulled back, examining you at arm’s length. “Of course I came,” he croaked. “You matter way too much to me.”_ And I love you too much to just leave you by yourself_. 

He was happy to see the smallest of smiles curving at your lips. 


	25. A Guy Named Captain Morgan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung Choi/Luciel Choi x Reader

You knew there’d be ramifications to leaving the apartment to go get shitfaced. A potential stalker was aware of every little move you made, and you were certain that you were being watched almost every second. 

Seven was particularly hesitant on this fact alone; how was he going to protect you if he wasn’t with you? The desperate nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach made it obvious that he shouldn’t leave you alone, that he should at least watch over you. What better way to do that then watch you from afar?

Currently, you were nursing a glass of—was that whiskey? No, it was rum. Definitely rum. And you were, from what he could tell, slightly intoxicated. You kept slurring orders at the bartender, waving your hand around wildly, asking for refill after refill. When the bartender rolled his eyes and asked how someone like you could drink so much and still be talking, you replied with, “I have a high tolerance—” in the most authoritative-like tone you could manage while glaring heated daggers at him, “I’ll prove it to you! Buy me another round, pussy.” And when he refused, you repeatedly slandered him; an abundance of curse words he never knew you knew the meaning of falling past your lips with drunken vigor. It was a sight to see, but unfortunately, he didn’t want you to embarrass yourself. So, he had to intervene. 

You were mumbling around the rim of your glass when he made his way over to you. And although the words were jumbled and slurred and entirely too incomprehensible for him to understand, they sounded meek and small coming from your mouth. The half-haunted expression on your face didn’t help either. 

“Having fun there?” 

Your brows drew together in confusion, a frown tilting at your lips. “Wait,” you whispered, suspicious. “I know that voice.” 

He could almost feel the beginning of a grin stretching across his face, but refrained from doing so. This was a serious manner—he needed to get you safe, and immediately. “(Name),” he spoke softly. “We gotta get you back home, okay? Come on.”

“S-Seven?” You mumbled blearily, head darting to your right. As soon as you locked eyes with him, every muscle in your face seemed to tighten. “What are you doing here?” 

He laughed quietly, embarrassingly. “I-I followed you here—” when he noticed your expression drop, he quickly continued, “only because I wanted to make sure you were okay!” A bright red blush steadily climbed up his cheeks. 

You scoffed. “I don’t need you to protect me, Luciel. I can protect myself.” 

_Clearly_, he wanted to say. But he kept his mouth shut no matter how badly he wanted to correct you. The way you had said his name made him shiver—he didn’t know why though; he’d heard you say his name plenty of times before. Maybe it was because you were inebriated, not entirely yourself? It felt foreign to him, and all he knew was that he liked hearing it. 

He let out a long breath, face twisting into worry as you downed back another shot of rum. Your face scrunched up briefly before you waved your hand, signaling for the bartender to give you another refill. Seven let it happen. He wouldn’t shelter you, wouldn’t limit you—he wasn’t like that. All he wanted, all he needed was you safe and out of harm’s way. The thought of losing you made his stomach churn with unease. If he’d lost you, there wasn’t telling what he would do. He’d probably tear the city apart, only stopping until he felt completely numb of emotion. 

“I’m sorry but you know you’re safer with me,” he bargained meekly. 

“I have this—” you held up your now full glass of rum, “I don’t need you.” 

Although the words stung, he showed no reaction. 

“**I’ve been cheating on you with a guy named Morgan**,” you giggled delusionally into the glass. “**He’s a captain**.” 

At that, he quirked a brow. Since when had you referred to him as anything more than just your friend? Had you already developed feelings for him? How much did you feel for him? The possibilities were endless. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty sweet, if I do say so myself.” 

He couldn’t help himself. “And I’m not?” 

You had tensed at that; shoulders stiff, face impassive. What was going on in that beautiful mind of yours? 

You let out a sigh, slouching in defeat. “No, you are.” You didn’t meet his stare as you continued. “You’re too sweet.” 

_Wrong_. 

There was a noticeable tremble in your fingers as they curled around the glass. His heart clenched. 

“Take me home, God Seven.” 

His shoulders rose then fell in relief. _Gladly_. 


	26. RFA + how they react to you being on your period

— _**Yoosung Kim**_

The type to notice the change in demeanor almost instantly. He is already accustomed to the way your body reacts to certain things, he knows every little detail of you. He became a very observant person when he met you. And if there is one thing he is always prepared for, it’s the changing of your body, though more specifically when it changes once a month. He has the dates written down on his calendar—he never misses it, and the first thing he does is make sure you’re comfortable.

— _**Zen (Hyun Ryu) **_

Oblivious. He doesn’t understand why you keep glaring at him or why your attitudes keep changing like the weather. You got from hot to cold, and when he tries to ask you why, you only roll your eyes and ignore him, muttering something unintelligible under your breath so he isn’t able to hear it. When he goes to touch you, you pull away, but when he respects your boundaries, you get angry, confused as to _why_ he isn’t touching you. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions.

— _**Jaehee Kang**_

She already knows and has probably just gotten over hers or is about to start. Since you two are always around each other, it’s no surprise that your menstrual cycles are all out of wack with one another. But you both try to take care of each other the best you can without tearing each other’s throats out first.

— _**Jumin Han**_

Jumin Han.exe has stopped working. To be honest, he panics; the first sign of pain upon your face sends him into overprotective mode. He asks you immediately what you require to feel comfortable and becomes your own two legs. There is no hesitation, only love.

— _**707 (Saeyoung Choi) **_

He already knows what to do. At the first sign of discomfort, he’s already preparing a heating pad and bringing your chocolates and anything you desire. His specialty is giving you back rubs and kissing your tummy when you get cramps.

— _**V (Jihyun Kim)**_

Shyly ask you what you need, what you want, and if what you want is him then he will gleefully comply all the while still blushing like a maniac. He prepares to spend the entire day in bed with you, but also knows when to urge you to eat and rest. If you wish to be alone, he’ll respect boundaries. But as soon as you start whining his name, it doesn’t take him more than five seconds before he’s already at your side.


	27. “I suggest a duel to help settle who does the dishes tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung Choi/Luciel Choi x Reader

From the moment your nephew stepped out into the living room, there was a motherly instinct to rush to his side. Saeyoung watched immersed as you knelt down next to the four year old, swiping your thumb over his tear-stained cheeks with such fragility that the gesture alone was enough to send his heart into overdrive.

You had regarded the child with such delicacy that it was something entirely different with him; he had never seen you like this—it was, to say the least, refreshing. He watched on in silent awe as you carried the child back to his room, whispering soft words of assurance to him, eyelids fluttering heavily as if just by hearing you speak was enough to send him back into a peaceful slumber. 

It was on an impulse that he decided to follow you down the hall and into the child’s room. He leaned a shoulder on the door frame, a smile pulling at his lips as you tucked him in, humming a tune that was unfamiliar and foreign to his own ears. There was a goofy grin on the child’s face as his eyes slipped shut—must’ve been because of something you’d said. Your words were morphed, drowned out by the sound of the fan blowing in your direction. 

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his cheek, and Saeyoung caught the small smile on your lips as you pulled back, observing the small child with every ounce of tenderness only a mother could have. Except, he wasn’t your child—and yet, you loved him as a mother would. 

You turned away, catching your boyfriend’s eye. There was no amount of shock on your face when you realized that he’d been standing there, watching you this entire time. You were used to him already. 

“It’s like you’re a different person,” he chuckled warmheartedly. “Who are you and what have you done to my (Name)?” 

You gave him a dramatic roll of your eyes, ushering him out of the room. “Come on, weirdo.” 

“Is he okay, though?” 

You nodded, casting one more glance over your shoulder as the worry etched across your face like a second skin. “Nightmare,” you whispered. “He gets them from time to time.” 

“Ah.”

You shoved your shoulder into his playfully, forcing that emotional wall back up. “Hey—” you had started, giggling softly when he gave you a boyish grin, “**I suggest a duel to help settle who does the dishes tonight.** You in?” 

There was no way he couldn’t be.


	28. RFA + being overprotective of you

— _**Yoosung Kim**_

The first time he becomes overprotective, it’s like he’s a different person altogether. Between the defensive stature, and the complete shift in demeanor, he isn’t someone you’d want to disrespect.

— _**Zen (Hyun Ryu) **_

Bared teeth, clenched jaw; an entirely horrifying transformation from his usual attitude. He is the Alpha—he will protect you at all costs.

— _**Jaehee Kang**_

Her demeanor changes like the wind, but it’s barely noticeable to someone who doesn’t know her as well as you do. Her expression is what unsettles you; she’s like a wolf hunting its prey. But all the same, she remains impassive and handles it carefully.

— _**Jumin Han**_

Literally shoves himself in front of you. Is prepared to take a bullet if the situation calls for it, will do everything he can to keep you safe. He becomes _desperate_.

— _**707 (Saeyoung Choi) **_

All growls and bark. Will tear a person to shreds by threatening them or blackmailing them. He puts up this indecipherable front that has you trying to pick it apart. He will not let anyone harm you, just the thought of anyone touching you (that isn’t him) makes him sick.

— _**V (Jihyun Kim) **_

Much like Jumin, V is a very vulnerable man when it comes to your safety. He will beg and plead and do everything in his power to keep out of harm’s way. You mean too much to him and the thought of losing you sends him over the edge.


	29. "Is it okay if I sleep here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung Kim x Reader

Nightmares were your venom.

Almost every night you go to bed aware of the realization that you’ll wake up less than yourself. There was this void, this endless notion that, slowly, the nightmares were draining you completely dry. They were wringing you out like a worn out dish towel—and there was nothing you could do to stop them. Nothing but sit there, tangled in the sheets that had previously felt like a trap and were now your only safe haven. Only until you met Yoosung did that feel less and less true.

And suddenly, _he_ was your safe haven.

It came as no surprise to you when you became attached the moment he opened up to you. In a matter of eleven days, you were stuck—and instead of being tangled up in your bed sheets, you were tangled up in _him_.

You tiptoed into his room, the only light that illuminated the surrounding darkness came from the monitor on his desk which signaled he left his PC on—or it was in sleep mode. Sighing softly, you slid underneath his blankets with him, immediately consumed by his warmth as you burrowed yourself in him completely.

He blinked heavily, eyebrows drawing together in confusion when he noticed a second body, when he felt the added warmth pressing against his bare chest.

A soft, “huh?” fluttered past his lips shortly after. “(Name)…?” He shook himself awake, on full alert now. “**Is something wrong**?”

All you could manage was a delicate shake of your head.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, _hoarse_. “You’re shaking.”

_Oh, that?_ You guessed the nightmare had taken much of a larger toll on you than it had on most nights. Nothing to get ruffled up over, though.

You bit on your bottom lip. Lying to Yoosung never got you anywhere…and it wasn’t like your nightmares were a secret—he knew about them from the moment he opened you up, picked you apart _flaw by tantalizing flaw_.

He knew you more than you knew yourself.

You sighed, feeling his worry from the subtle shift of his arms around you, tightening ever so gently.

“**Is it okay if I sleep here—with you? I’m a little freaked out**…” Although that was a damn understatement.

His answer was a swift kiss to your temple. “Of course.”

You fell asleep a lot quicker being in his arms.


	30. Kiss You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> V | Jihyun Kim x Reader

You don’t know what had gotten into him, but you really couldn’t complain. 

In your peripherals, you could just barely make out the outline of his form as he stood impatiently at the foot of the bed. Still, you said nothing—you were curious to see what he would do. He was like a needy baby and you loved it. 

An audible harrumph fluttered past his lips, but he had yet to say something to you. “(_Name_)…” A huff, a whine that called and begged for your attention. 

“Yes?” You drawled sweetly, keeping your focus on the book you held in your hands. 

These moods didn’t come as a shock to you. However, the extent he was taking them to today gave you every bit of realization that he was in desperate need of your attention—there’d be no room to argue; he wanted you to look at him and only him, but the thought of ebbing it on just for a little while longer brought an almost goofy smile to your lips. 

Playing with him was fun.

But before you could provoke him further, you felt the edge of the bed dip. He crawled over to you then, as instinct took over, you lifted the book so he could snuggle his face into your stomach. 

You proceeded to read as soon as he was comfortable. 

Though, it didn’t last very long. 

“What are you reading?” He spoke, voice muffled by your stomach. 

“Pride and Prejudice.” 

He gave a thoughtful hum. “What part?” 

“Mr. Darcy has confessed his feelings.” 

You were prepared for another round of questions, but silence followed shortly afterwards. Only, that hadn’t been the end of his ploy to distract you—you just _knew_ he was having fun with this; he was a troublemaker, after all. Your troublemaker. 

First came the subtle stirring, the occasional tangle of limbs as he leaned into you impossibly further. Next came the little kisses pressed delicately into your tummy, where he’d brush his nose against the fabric of your shirt—_purring_. You gripped the book tighter. Why was he like this? 

He was definitely in one of his moods. 

And it was definitely one of your favorites. 

When he turned his cheek to peer up at you in silent awe, you felt your cheeks burn as if someone had taken a match to your skin. He was being _ridiculous_. But, oh—he didn’t just stop there. This was simply just the beginning of what he really wanted to do with you. 

With a sluggish movements, he pushed himself up until he was able to lay his cheek on your chest where he was able to feel the steady strumming of your heartbeat. “Hmm, your heart’s starting to beat fast,” he whispered coyly. “Is it because of me?” 

You scoffed—the sound adorable to his ears. “You wish.” 

He peered up at you through heavy eyelids, his boyish affection sinking into his cheeks where two dimples emerged. “Maybe I need to try harder,” he spoke low, voice sated. 

The book was completely forgotten about now as he hovered over you, carefully lowering his lips onto your own. His kisses always made you dizzy, always melted you, always made you come alive, bordering on something universal, otherworldly. 

When he pulled away, you had followed the movement of his head, craving more, more, more—you could never seem to get enough. 

“What about now?” He tilted his head, eyes shining with warm amusement. 

God, you could strangle him. 


	31. Five Hour Energy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung Kim x Reader

“Come on!” 

But the boy didn’t budge, not even an inch. He remained glued to his chair, headset on, hands glued to his keyboard, eyes narrowed and focused and—oh God was he falling asleep?

With a groan, you leaned your chin on the top of his head. “Sweetheart, you need sleep,” you rasped tiredly, forcing down a yawn. 

Through the screen of his computer, you caught the smallest of smiles tilting at his lips before he heaved a long sigh in return. “**I’ve been running on five hour energy all day,” **he spoke casually. “I just need to do this one last thing and then I’ll go to bed.” His dipped his head back, looking up at you through crossed eyes. “I promise.” 

Despite the sincerity in his voice, you couldn’t help but pout. “**Why are you doing this to yourself**?” 

He shrugged, giving you a lazy grin. “I’m addicted.” 

“Why can’t you be addicted to me instead?” You whined, and before you could see the way his entire face dropped at that, you were already throwing yourself at his bed, burying your face into his pillows. 

It wasn’t long before you heard a quick_ tap tap tap_ of his fingers and the soft paddling of his sock-clad feet before there was a dip in the bed. Warm arms snaked around your waist, breath fanning the back of your neck—_this_, you missed this. 

“Don’t stop playing on my accord,” you harrumphed. 

He pressed a tender kiss to your neck, laughing softly when you shivered at the contact. “I’m not,” he replied meekly. “Besides, you’re more important.” 

Heat consumed your cheeks as you turned over in his arms, wriggling underneath the bulk of his weight as he peered down at you with that boyish charm you adored you well. That charm you missed so damn much. 

“Well, I suppose I can do something for you in return.” You quirked a brow, watching as the serene expression on his face morphed into one of utter shyness. His cheeks exploded in heat, the redness of his blush putting Saeyoung’s hair to shame. 

He cleared his throat, eyes glazing over instantly. “L-like what?” 

You brushed your nose across his, watching triumphantly when his eyes fluttered heavily. “You’ll see.” 


	32. No Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung Choi/Luciel Choi x Reader

“God Seven speaking.”

The soft baritone of his voice spills through the reciever, causing the erratic beats of your heart to sway before descending into a more slower pattern.

You hold the phone closer to your cheek. Silence.

“(Name)…? Are you okay? **Why are you awake**?” He sounds worried, more than usual because you rarely call him in the middle of the night, let alone wallow in the silence brought between you.

The unease in his voice unsettles you. So you do the first thing that comes to mind: you _stall_. “**I’m a being of pure power, I don’t need sleep**!” And even though it’s supposed to be a jest, a warmhearted joke, you can feel his worry seep through in tsunamic waves. It’s almost _suffocating_.

He heaves a long sigh. “(_Name_)…” There’s that voice—the _I’m-worried-about-your-well-being-so-tell-me-what’s-wrong_ voice. If there’s one thing that Seven is, it’s that he’s extremely observent, and even more so when it comes to you, you’ve noticed.

You cave. “…**I had a nightmare**.”

And you’re waiting for the inevitable, for the part where, despite your trauma, he pushes you away. But it never comes. Instead, he comforts you.

“Well, you’re in luck because God Seven, Defender of Justice is here—and his job is to make sure you’re happy!” You feel the beginning of a smile tilting almost imperceptibly at your lips. “If Milady is not happy then we need to make sure we do everything we can to make her happy!”

You stifle a laugh, muffling it behind the palm of your hand.

“What does Milady require for happiness?” He coos dramatically, but you can hear the sincerity behind the act.

Without restraint, you whisper, “You. Milady requires _you_ for happiness, God Seven.”

The line goes silent, but you can still hear his heavy breathing. You can already picture the arising blush on his cheeks and ears and neck—and the thought only makes the warmth inside of you spread, expand, _flourish tenfold_. With Seven, there is nothing less than ardor, nothing less than rapture because that is the _only_ thing he makes you feel inside. Sometimes there is a chance he will get on your nerves, will do everything to test your wavering patience, but you rather enjoy burdening your life with his rapid shift in demeanor. No matter how many times he tries to push you away.

He releases an adorable, _“oh”, _before chuckling softly.

The sound causes you to nearly laugh out of sheer elation. You have to stop yourself before that can happen; that’s a big no-no. You’ve already come this far, if you open yourself up too much it’ll scare him away— and that _cannot_ happen.

You sink further into the mattress. “Stay on the phone with me—just until I’ve fallen asleep,” you croak. “Please?”

“Okay,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “Alright.”

And you let yourself smile this time.

“I’ll be right here.”

Your eyes slip shut.

“I promise.”


	33. RFA + first 'I love you'

— _**Yoosung Kim**_

He’s a romantic at heart, through and through. Hearing him say those three little words first made you the happiest you’ve ever been and then some. Honestly, it was a little alarming the way your expression fell before twisting into one of complete euphoria. If anything, it only made him love you more.

You cried (you were a sensitive person, so what) and the only thing that registered in the poor boy’s mind was that he screwed it up—he made you cry. And if Yoosung was anything, he was definitely not one to make a woman cry.

He looked just about shattered when you wiped them away, but before he could apologize, you made it _very_ clear that you loved him just as much.

— _**Zen (Hyun Ryu) **_

Believe it or not, but Zen is the emotional one in the relationship. Overly romantic, sensitive, the whole nine yards—and he always surprises you.

When he first said it, he was on his knees, face buried deep into your stomach as he clutched onto you as if you were his lifeline. He had made such a big deal out of it, not that you were complaining; it was adorable, _he_ was adorable.

As soon as the words slipped unceremoniously from his lips, you had fallen down on your knees in front of him and kissed him so lovingly that you were making him dizzy.

It was a moment for the books.

— _**Jaehee Kang**_

You were the first one to tell her; it wasn’t much of a surprise either. Jaehee was never one for showing much empathy—for you, though, she really tried.

You confessed tragically, during a moment when she felt hollow, when she was afraid that she wasn’t good enough for you. With those three little words, you proved her wrong.

And she returned them with just as much vigor, maybe tenfold. The look upon her face brightened up the entire room, erased any guilt you had stashed somewhere deep and—she made everything better.

When she kissed you, you felt heavenward. When she repeated the phrase, you almost cried in relief.

— _**Jumin Han**_

He spoke them tenderly during a moment he felt utterly content. If he was being honest, they just sort of happened to slip free; he couldn’t help himself—there was _something_ about you.

It was dawn. The early morning sun was just rising slowly into the orange cream skies where there wasn’t a cloud in sight. And you—well you were the most beautiful creature; messy and tedious, but beautiful all the same.

He had woken up to an empty bed that morning, hearing the sound of your soft giggles, and the patter of your bare feet as you tiptoed across the floor. He caught you playing with Elly; hair frizzled, heavy bags under your eyes, one of his striped shirts clinging to your frame in the most unkempt way possible. You were a sight for sore eyes.

The words had fallen out then, without restrain, without hesitation—and filled with some unrecognizable emotion. It was one you could get used to.

— _**707 (Saeyoung Choi) **_

A true delinquent at heart; he had every ounce of devotion and adoration in the universe for you. _He_ said them first. All lovingly and blissfully enraptured from the very moment—it was _he_ who spoke those words so effortlessly. Yet, somehow they felt overwhelmingly heavy on his tongue.

When it came to you, everything was overwhelming; your love, your laugh, the way you held him and gazed at him as your fingers combed through his hair. It was during the more delicate moments (although he has plenty of those with you) when he felt like he truly never deserved you.

He always told you that you were way out of his league. And you were. But that never stopped the infatuation from blooming dangerously in his chest, overflowing from the very tips of his fingers when he wrapped them around your own.

He was enchanted and he loved you so dearly that sometimes he wondered if he loved you _too much_.

The words tittered warmly past his lips in a giggle, the kind that sent your heart soaring because there was no other sound you craved more, craved _endlessly_.

You spent the rest of the day wrapped up in each other’s embrace with only whispered words of affection drifted between you.

— _**V (Jihyun Kim) **_

Instinct—sheer instinct.

You had just woken up to an empty bed, where you could still feel the remnants of the familiar warmth that he left behind. It was enough to pull you out of bed, despite knowing that his warmth soaked sheets would be enough to keep you content.

You spied him by his easel, paint brush stroking delicately across the canvas with such compassion that it made your heart flutter inside your chest. A feeling you were all too familiar with, one that made you question just how far you’d go to prove your unyielding devotion to this man. This man, who has numerously gone out of his way to make you the happiest woman in the world. Him. It was always going to be him.

In that moment, you felt it was only fair to tell him how you truly felt. And what better way to do it when he was most peaceful? It was only instinct to snake your arms around him, kiss his temple, and practically breathe them into his ear.

He had stilled, which was the reaction you expected from such a timid man as himself. But it didn’t take him long to recite them back to you, abandoning his current project before pulling you onto his lap and kissing you to an immeasurable degree.

You _melted_ into him.


	34. "I'm like a stray without a home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen | Hyun Ryu x Reader

“Needy baby!” 

“Hey!” 

“Hyun—!” You screeched when his fingers dug into your sides, kneading playfully, delicately. If there was anything in the world that you cherished the most, it was having your boyfriend all to yourself; no fans, no drama, no paparazzi—just you and him. It was the best feeling in the world, and even more so when he was intent on getting you to laugh until you peed yourself. 

“Say it,” he rasped between his own giggles, “Say it and I’ll stop!” 

You forced air into your lungs. “Never!” And before you could release the breath you so desperate collected, he began his crazed contingency in the blink of an eye—and the sound that left you was nothing short of indelicate. Still, he adored you all the same and it had shown in the way he dipped his head low, pressing his lips to the juncture of your neck. “Eek! N-No—”

“Say it…” he breathed hoarsely, “Say it now or forever hold your peace.” 

There was great difficulty in holding back your laughter, adorable little sounds of your failed attempt only provoked him further. He nuzzled you once more then lapped sweetly at the sensitive spot on your skin, which in return, had noises of otherworldly natures crawling up your throat. Your back arched. 

“Come on…” He cooed. “Say you love me and I’ll let you go, Princess.” 

You hummed, tempting him. “What if I don’t want you to let me go?” 

“Lord have mercy—” he groaned under his breath, “Then I’ll stay right here.** I’m like a stray without a home**. You think you can handle that?” 

You only smiled up at him, mischievously grinning. “I prefer it actually.” 


	35. Wait For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung Choi/Luciel Choi x Reader; Jumin Han x Reader

The entire room erupted into cheers. 

As your cheeks began to glow, you dipped your head shyly, giving a flamboyant bow for good measure. If anything, you just wanted the attention off of you, focused on literally anything but what you had accomplished. But, even as you tried to keep your own focus from drifting over the other members, their own stares pulled you in. They’d been nothing short of adamant. It was flustering to no end. 

Raising the champagne flute, you connected eyes with Jumin. He stood tall around everyone else, and he seemed to be the only one who was looking at you like…well, like _that_. Intense, smoldering gaze—his eyes were practically burning holes right through you at this point. But you couldn’t get over the soft underlying in them; a tenderness you’ve only seen the poor sap give to his trustee feline companion. 

His lips quirked and your legs turned to jelly. 

You had to sit down, pretend that his focus wasn’t _doing things_ to you that could be easily avoided if he’d just_ stop staring_. 

However, that wasn’t going to happen. And the chance—slim to _none_. 

Before you could get lost in him, Saeyoung—the closest to you out of the RFA members—nudged you back to reality. A cheeky grin stretched over his lips and time slowed to a stop. The fact that he was here with you made you more than happy. You were experiencing a rarity among the universes; your happiness was beyond recognition by now, and if you could, you’d burst just from the sheerness of it. 

“Captain.” He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back; his expression never wavered. After all, this was the very first of first meetings. He knew it, you knew it. 

You nodded back, bringing your lip between your teeth. “God Seven,” you cooed. 

He gave you a toothy smile, such a rare look, but not entirely unlike him. He tipped forward, “_Congratulations_.” 

A chorus of giggles rang throughout the room, marveling in his company. “The almighty Defender of Justice is praising me?” You took a sip of the bubbly champagne, smirking at him. “I am _honored_.”

He placed the briefest of kisses to your cheek, pulling away with—surprisingly—reddening cheeks. “You deserve it.” His voice had lowered imperceptibly, but you had caught the shift in demeanor almost immediately. It was different. He was different and delicate and why was he looking at you like that? As if he were seeing you for the first and the last time. 

You hummed despite the rumbling curiosity in the pit of your stomach. “Well, you sure know how to make a woman swoon.” 

You didn’t miss the way his eyes shone a bit brighter at that. 

He held his palm to his chest, head tipping back as he swooned dramatically. “Critical hit on my heart! Damage 7777….must use a recovery skill!” You snorted, the sound prompting him to peek at you as he grinned goofily down at you. He grew serious just as quickly, clearing his throat. “No, but I think this calls for God Seven’s noble high-fives—don’t you agree?” 

You giggled. “I simply _cannot_ refuse!” You held up your hand and slapped it against his, enjoying the warmth it brought to you before he pulled away, cheeks somehow redder than before. 

The thoughts in your head were adrift as soon as another presence made itself known. A sense of contentment resonated within your mind, easing your thoughts almost as easily as breathing, when you realized who the added presence was. Jumin. And his smile was bordering on infectious. 

Smiling. He was actually smiling, paying absolutely no mind to Saeyoung—whose light had noticeably diminished among his arrival—and was giving you _moon eyes_. He was starstruck, utterly in awe. 

Where was the _real_ Jumin Han? This had to be a clone. 

“You did a splendid job, (Name). I’m impressed.” 

What was this feeling? Why did you suddenly feel a rush of emotions shooting up your toes? Usually, you’d be hesitant to even be this close to him, much less be at the center of his gravity because in that moment you were just that—his gravity. And it was a sobering reminder of just how much you adored him. Just how much you could lose yourself in his grin (a sight you now cherish), in the nearness of him, in the way his eyes lit up when they found you. Piece by piece, you could feel that invisible thread anchoring itself around the one attached to him. 

He laughed unexpectedly, the sound of his bubbly laughter sending your heart racing, cheeks warming. With an unfamiliar shyness, he reached out with his hand, beckoning you to hold it. Without hesitation, you did. 

As Jumin led you away, you glanced over your shoulder, feeling a heavy pang in your chest at the sight of Seven’s retreating figure. 

_I’ll be back for you, Seven. Just wait for me_.


	36. Untitled Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader
> 
> \- I have no idea where this concept came from, but it just hit me randomly the other day and I decided to write it.

You could see the alarm in his eyes as they flickered back and forth between where the hacker’s arm curled around your throat and your face. There seemed to be a frightening question in them, and it wasn’t as if it were hard to read—it was too barefaced, distinct, and the alarm was bordering on sheer horror. In that moment, it wasn’t just your fear that suffocated you, it was his and it was intermingling with your own, heightening and expanding and it took every last ounce of control not to make it go away. 

The hacker’s arm tightened around your trachea and you winced, trying to force the added pressure from your airways. _“Let me go!”_ you choked out. 

A humorless chuckle tittered past his lips, but your struggle only provoked him to squeeze harder. You gasped painfully, screwing your eyes shut. “Keep moving and I blow up this entire building,” he whispered, brushing his lips across the shell of your ear, his voice menacing. 

“(Name), don’t move! Just—just stay still,” Seven warned in a strained voice. “It’s okay—” his eyes darted towards Saeran, narrowing dangerously. “Just let her go, she has nothing to do with this—!”

“She has _everything_ to do with this!” he roared, “Sorry, Luciel…but _she_ is what I came here for, and I’m _not_ leaving without her.” 

It was a threat. A clear threat that you could either ignore and await the inevitable or give in and let Saeran whisk you away. By the look in Seven’s eyes, there was no semblance of defeat, of helplessness—he wasn’t going to stop protecting you. 

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t protect yourself. 

You had mapped it all out ever since the threat became imminent, ever since Saeran broke through the window. Endless possibilities of how it could play out, how you’d be able to defend yourself—because you weren’t hopeless, you weren’t weak, nor pathetic. You were smart enough to know that if you weren’t careful, the trigger in his hand could slip and fall away, clatter to the floor and possibly blow up the apartment (maybe the entire building, you didn’t know how big it was) with you inside of it. And then that would be it, you’d be dead and so would Seven and you didn’t want to think of something so terrible. It made you sick to your bones. 

While Seven tried to bargain with his dear ole twin, you were already analyzing the outcomes. You couldn’t just run, you wouldn’t have enough time to grab Seven before the bomb exploded—that was out of the question. You weren’t going anywhere without him. Creating a distraction could either go badly or smoothly depending on how meticulous you were, you couldn’t just paint yourself as the target and hoped with everything you had that Seven would abandon you even if you pleaded for it. No. That wasn’t going to happen; he came here for you so why would he leave without you? This left you with only one option left: you have to do everything in your power to make sure that bomb doesn’t get triggered. And there was only one way to do it. 

You rooted yourself to the floor, but Seven caught the quick movement. Of course, he had. He was trained to notice even the most faintest of movements, and with you it only seemed to heighten. And seeing the sterile determination in your eyes, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that told him you weren’t about to do something reckless. 

But he had realized this all too late. 

In a split second, you had thrown your head back into the lower half of his face then with an unexplained carefulness, you reached for the trigger before slamming your sock-clad feet into the side of his thigh. His knees buckled and blood poured out of his nose, but that didn’t stop him from spewing a plethora of ugly words at you while trying to regain his balance. 

“Seven!” 

He seemed to snap out of whatever shock he was in once his name fell from your lips, hurried and panicked. And it didn’t take him long to realize you were readying yourself to toss the trigger to him. Once you did, he caught it with ease and watched as you turned around to deliver another blow to Saeran’s face. He crumbled from the sheer force of your punch, knees buckling once more as his body slumped altogether. 

You readied yourself for another hit, but he was unconscious within seconds, eyelids fluttering shut and head smacking harshly against the floor. The sounds of your harsh breathing mixed in with Seven’s sharp intakes of breath filled the room, surrounding you like a cloud of smoke. You turned around, steadily and slowly, hoping that he wasn’t giving you the look of betrayal, only to sigh in relief when all you were met with was confusion; unadulterated confusion. It was a look you weren’t familiar with—a _concept_ you weren’t familiar with. He was always known as the one who knew everything, who had the answers to everything. But it was in this moment that he looked truly stumped. 

To say you were shocked would be a massive understatement. 

“It seems I may have not been completely honest with you…” you chuckled lamely, the gesture only twisting his features further. The rapid darting of his eyes as they flew from both you to his now fully unconscious twin brother was uncanny, and if you were being honest, amusing. You actually stunned him into silence. This was a breakthrough. 

But what worried you was the ever present silence that seemed to drag on.

“Sev—”

“Who are you?” he whispered, brokenly nonetheless. “How did you…what? How—” his eyes zipped over to you and you held your breath at the fire burning inside them. “How did you _do_ that?”

Oh, where to begin.

With an exasperated sigh, you held up your hands. “I’m an ex-navy seal, and what you saw here—” you gestured toward the still very unconscious twin, “was from _years_ of training.”

If possible, he looked even more confused. His features pinched and twisted in absolute incredulity, causing the hollow pit in your stomach to expand. Of course, he felt betrayed—he had no reason not to.

“I know this must all be confusing,” you started softly. “But I am _not_ the enemy; I need you to understand that.”

He remained quiet, head dipping low to shield the haunted expression upon his face.

“_Saeyoung_—”

His head snapped up, astonished. “How do you know my name?”

“I know _a lot_ about you,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing. And you continued with a barely audible mumble of sorts, “…more than anyone.”

But he still continued to watch you with a somewhat warm caution. Because despite how insane the past few minutes have been, he still can’t bring himself to feel mad or upset or betrayed—_he_ had his secrets too.


	37. Untitled Work #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader
> 
> \- I wrote this the other day because I had the worst migraine; enjoy some fluff!

“What in the world are you doing?”

The ex-agent exaggerates, watching humorously as you sink from the bed to the floor.

“I’m dying! Face it,” you groan. “The world has finally had enough of me; I’m not fit to be alive.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to fight the affectionate smile, but realizing with you, it’s nearly impossible. He gives a sweet little hum and it’s filled with the slightest nonchalance—you’re being overdramatic again. And he almost laughs, but all it takes is seeing the unease twist your features before he’s kneeling down right next to you.

You whimper on an exhale, eyes slamming shut. “Why?”

“What is it?” He reaches for and touches your cheek tenderly, brows furrowing in concern. You’re upside down, but he can tell that the expression on your face is far from comfortable. “Is it another migraine?”

At his question, you groan once more. There’s a sickly feeling in the pit of your stomach; you want to throw up, to throw yourself beneath a pile of blankets—hell!— you’ll even be fine with drowning yourself in a tub full of ice water if it’ll take away the pain and nausea. Anything. In this moment, you would do _anything_.

“I feel _sick_,” you mewl. “My head hurts, I feel like I wanna throw up, the list goes on. And the only thing that seems to elevate me even just for a little bit, is hanging upside down on your bed.”

His heart cleches.

“Hey, I have a question.” You peek up at him, ignoring the wave of vertigo.

“And I might have an answer for you,” he replies softly. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“Can you chop my head off?” Silence. “I know it’s totally unorthodox, but—”

He laughs wholeheartedly. The type of laugh that comes in the form of happiness sinking dimples into each of his cheeks, or creates those childlike crinkles in the corners of his eyes. The laugh that relieves you of your hurt if only for the briefest of seconds.

It prompts him to lean forward and press a sweet little kiss to your temple, and you get a whiff of his aftershave. It’s not too strong, but it’s enough to have you swooning past all of the ache and pain.

“If I did that then I wouldn’t be able to kiss you,” he whispers fondly. “And I _really_ like kissing you.”

“Technically, you could still kiss me—my head will just be separated from my body,” you argue. “I’d let you keep my head if that’s what you want.”

He leans forward. “How about I start a bath and then we can lay in bed for the rest of the day?”

“And then you can chop my head off?”

He laughs again. “And then we can talk about how _devastated_ I’ll be if I chopped it off.” Despite the look of disappointment in your eyes, he boops your nose anyway. “Deal?”

Finally, you sigh. “_Deal_.”


	38. Kissing Tears Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen | Hyun Ryu x Reader

He finds you in the kitchen the day after the party, when it’s early morning smiles and rosy red cheeks. 

You’re singing to yourself as you hover over the oven, a spatula in your hand while you inspect the ingredients in an unsubtle meekness. And he swears it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. To top it all off, you’re wearing one of his button-ups and he has absolutely no control over the daring movement of his eyes as they wander lower and lower and—_sweet baby jesus you aren’t wearing any pants_. All that’s visible is the slight curvature of your ass that fits snugly in a pair of pink lace panties. 

He can see stars. 

The sound of you letting out a sweet little yawn brings him back, just to end up watching you curl a loose strand of your hair that had fallen out of its unruly bun behind your ear. His heart clenches at the sight, but you continue to hum softly to yourself, still continue to make him fall even more in love with you. 

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts throughout the kitchen and he finds himself falling into a feverish haze of contentment. He leans casually on the doorframe, narrowly missing the frame itself because he’s too focused on watching you. Still, you don’t notice his presence, which makes it all the more easier to watch you without you knowing. He likes to pick you apart in quiet times like these, likes to figure out who you are when you don’t notice him near. You’re practically in your own little world, and he finds himself swooning internally. 

He was almost certain that if he tried to put his feelings into words, he’d only embarrass himself. Your presence alone make him all fuzzy and ticklish inside, and just the slightest peek of your grin sends him into a whirlwind of otherworldly emotions that he can never seem to describe. It’s all still very new to him. 

You turn away from the stove, and for a moment he fears that he’s been caught watching you. But you continue on without a care in the world, eyes trained on the cutting board, hand wrapped carefully around the knife as the blade slices into the potatoes. 

The tip of the blade cuts a little too close to your finger (and succeeds in nipping you), and before he can stop himself, he propels himself toward you in a frenzy as the almost always soft timbre of his voice turns high-pitched in a whine—and you recoil with a gasp. 

By the time he reaches you, you’re holding your bleeding finger close to your chest, the red color of it staining his button-up. And although it’s one of his favorites, his only worry is that you might need stitches. 

“Jagiya, are you okay? Does it hurt?”

Startled, your head snaps up as a fresh wave of panic seizes you altogether. You let out a long, shaky breath, face contorting. “God,” your laugh is strained. “I wanted to surprise you.”

His face softens for a brief moment before a familiar worry overwhelms his naturally casual features. Immediately and tentatively, he takes your hand into his own, breath hitching when you flinch at the contact. He mumbles a meek, “_sorry, sorry_” under his breath and examines the wound with furrowed brows. 

You have to admit that—even despite the circumstances—you feel incredibly thankful that he still remains delicate and grounded and you know he’s worrying, but the gesture is appreciated. But moreover, as if luck isn’t on your side already, there’s a slight stinging and it _hurts_. It hurts just enough for Zen to notice the slightest shift in demeanor, enough to realize that any minute now, you’ll have tears falling down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry softly. 

With a delicacy you cannot comprehend, he holds the cloth over your bleeding finger and leans forward to kiss away the lone tear sliding down your cheek. It catches on his lips, and before you can register the feel of his lips on your skin, he’s already moving to kiss away the other tear on your right cheek. 

He pulls away just barely, nose brushing against yours in a dizzying act of affection. “Don’t apologize,” he sighs. “Let me help you with the rest, yeah?” 

“But—”

Although, he speaks as a worrying father, his face resembles the exact replica of softness. “No. You, sit.” 

You couldn’t argue even if you tried. 


	39. When It All Falls Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

“I don’t care about your feelings, alright?! Think about the fact that you’re living with a bomb right now. There’s no guarantee that something more dangerous won’t happen in the future!” 

He spewed such hateful things at you that it was almost near impossible to prevent your heart from jumping at the sudden raise in volume. The tone of his voice sounded so utterly foreign that it scared you, which didn’t help the fact that your heart was pumping much faster than it should have. 

With each word it felt like a punch to the gut. 

“Stop worrying about me!” 

_Punch._

“When this is all over, you’ll never see me again!” 

_Punch. _

“I’m not good for you, don’t you get that?!” 

Punch after punch _after punch_, and little by little, the light inside of you began to die out, fade away, disappear. You felt hollow, somehow more emptier than you’ve ever felt in your entire life, and you’ve felt plenty emptiness. Now, all that was left was a blackhole where your heart once thrummed with purpose. There wasn’t a lick of purpose left; it was all worn out—and Seven made sure of that. 

The tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. Not when he was still standing there, looking down at you as if you were some complete stranger to him, as if all of those ridiculous 3 A.M. texts meant nothing to him. How could he stand there and say all of those things to you as if you were just some emotionless vessel? You were human, you were vulnerable and messy and _complicated_—how could he stand there and make you feel as if you were some damn robot? 

“I’m going out in the hallway…” he exhaled with a tremble. “And I won’t come back in until you’re asleep, so you can sort out your emotions until then.” 

That one felt like he had just poured molten lava all over you; burning, stinging, _wounding_. 

You watched, crestfallen, as he shuffled out of the apartment, lugging his equipment under his arm. When he slammed the door shut behind him, your heart jumped once again, rattling every single ounce of sanity you had brimming inside of you. It was too much—it was all just too fucking much. 

The first of many tears slid down your cheek, and it was a slippery slope of broken harmonies all refusing to piece themselves back together, refusing to piece _you_ back together. You were paralyzed in fear as his words played on a loop over and over and over again inside your mind, echoing and taunting and taking away what little innocence you had left. 

It wasn’t long before the damn finally broke; your psychological and emotional walls slowly coming undone, tears cascading down your cheeks like an avalanche of despair. You pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them with little strength. What did he want from you? He was so hellbent on keeping you safe, but at the slightest hint of compassion, he would shut down and treat you as if you weren’t his equal, as if you had _no right_ to feel something for him. 

He had no control over your emotions, no control over what you felt. How could he decide your future with such a one-track mind? He wouldn’t even open up to the possibility, yet when completely fell apart when the slightest inconvenience happened to you. Why? Why was he still protecting you if he wanted nothing to do with you?

But, no—you couldn’t think like that. You couldn’t put yourself through the possibility of him abandoning you. He couldn’t leave, he just couldn’t. 

Would he? 

No. 

Your heart jumped again and—for a split second you wondered if you were going to be truly alone after this. Sure, you had the other RFA members; Zen was determined to protect you from the beginning, Yoosung, the poor kid, you were sure he had a crush on you, it wasn’t hard to notice, Jumin… well, he was stoic and had a heart of ice, but he still cared for you and the fact that he showed some sort of semblance of compassion toward you made you feel slightly better. And Jaehee, although you didn’t know too much about her like you had with the others, she still showed that she cared about you and that she would go to great lengths to make sure you were okay. You could count on them, you know you could. But it was Seven who made you feel brighter, who had, if only momentarily, helped you become who you are now. You were a different person thanks to him; you smiled more, you laughed more, you were less afraid of the future and more curious of the present. With him, you felt… whole again. There was no void you could turn to, there was only sunshine and dandelions and the rush of inexplicable emotions that you never once thought you’d be able to feel. Seven had made you feel absolute. 

Keyword: had. 

“Lovely, (Name), Lovely (Name)! I sense a high level of stress meow.” The whirring and beeping of the robot cat seemed to startle you back to reality. “I automatically turn on when I sense high levels of distress meow. The source of Lovely (Name)’s stress is not good meow. I analyzed meow.” 

You looked over at it, where it had rested in the corner, and was slowly making its way over to you. You sniffled then hastily wiped at your cheeks, unable to ignore the heavy sinking feeling in your chest. 

“Cheer up, meow! Me, Meowy does not lose service, meow!” 

Desolation yawned like a pit inside you, black and bottomless. All you could do was hide the oncoming sob behind the palm of your hand, nearly letting it slip when the robot cat froze mid stride in the middle of the room, staring up at you with saddening eyes. 

“Would Master like company? Meowy will not go away until Master is happy!” 

Slowly you removed your hand, but your breath caught as you hiccuped on an inhale. “Master is fine, Meowy.” 

“Meowy wants to hear master meow.” It cooed softly as if it were Seven speaking to you. 

For a minute, you almost thought it was. Maybe he had installed a camera to watch over you, to make sure you were okay when he wasn’t around—you wouldn’t put it past him. But with how he was acting, you weren’t sure that he even cared about you anymore. It was like he turned off his emotions like a flip of a switch. 

“Meow, Master~ Meowy begs to hear Master meow.” 

You hid your face behind your hands, croaking quietly— “Meowy, let’s stay quiet for now.” Because in truth you couldn’t stand another minute choking on your cries, on the despair that was slowly eating you alive. You couldn’t take it. No, no, no—it was too much. 

“That’s a voice I must absolutely obey, meow… system will shut down meow….!” 

You peeked out from the creases of your fingers, watching in a quiet awe as the lights in its eyes began to fade out before the entirety of its body went slack. And that was that—you were once again submerged in the deafening silence, alone with your thoughts that ran rampant inside your already broken mind. What else was there to do? Tomorrow, it would be the same thing over again; one argument after the other, but—what if you gave up? What if…what if you just let the nothingness overwhelm you, let it drag you under? The outcome would be marginally better than feeling. Anything would be better than feeling. 

You hid your face behind your hands, feeling the bile rise up your throat. This feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. This feeling was constant. 

Perhaps that was why you finally broke. 

It happened in stages; grief, isolation, rage, numbness. Then came the fear. It broke apart every last piece of your sanity, tore through the delicate strings that were desperately keeping you together. And it hurt. It hurt like hell. 

You cowered, back colliding sternly against the wall behind you as you hugged your knees close to your chest. You rocked back and forth, and the sound of your back slammed into the wall reverberating, agitating, provoking you further. You cried until your voice was raw, until the tears blurred so much of your sight that you couldn’t see anything within close proximity. 

Everything was too jumbled together. All you could hear was erratic _thump thump thump _of your heart as the fear willed it to accelerate, to squeeze and release with such painstaking force that it made you feel as if you were suffocating, choking. 

You feared the inevitable end. 

And then it finally hit you: that hazy feeling. It took everything from you, rendering you helpless from head to toe. Inside your chest, it was like white noise; static and disoriented. Breathing became an obstacle and the air around you felt thicker than blood. 

_Alone. Alone. Alone. All alone, you were all alone_—

Then suddenly, you weren’t. 

Hands like tiny little anchors leached onto your shoulders in an iron grip, jolting you back to reality. A noise, a wounded, heartbreaking noise reached your ears and you wondered what it could be. You felt discombobulated, unsure of yourself. But then there he was, bloodshot eyes flickering across your face with an emotion that you’ve never witnessed from him before—terror; he was petrified, and it was then that you realized the strangled noise came from him. He was saying something now, lips moving rapidly, and you were certain that the little breaks in his sentences were because of his frantic stuttering. Why was he so afraid? 

And when the world finally stopped turning, he was still there. 

He spoke once, a name on his lips that sounded familiar and foreign at the same time. Was he talking to you? Had he called out your name—no he had whispered it like a scared little child. But why? What had terrified him so much?

Wordlessly, he scooted closer to you on the bed, removing his hands from your shoulders with caution. He choked on an inhale, a lone tear cascaded down his cheek. 

In that moment, he looked ethereal, beautiful even. You’d never seen him cry before, never seen him so utterly vulnerable and messy and torn. It pained you to see him like that. 

“Seven?” Right. That was his name—or was it Saeyoung? He had told you of his true identity, hadn’t he?

His brows came together in a frown, face twisting in ruin. “**Why are you doing this to me?**” The question was simple, but his voice was almost artificial, as if he could barely keep himself together. 

And although the question seemed simple enough, it still confused you; why was he asking you such a thing? Could he not see the way he was treating you? Could he not feel how heartbroken it made you to watch him turn his back, to watch as you crumbled beneath the pile of metaphorical debris? You were _shattered_. 

There was a fleeting moment where your fingers itched to curl around his—you were frozen. “Me?” He cringed when the question faded into a soft cry. “I’m the one who got too close to someone who doesn’t know what human emotion is. None of this is _my_ fault—_you_ won’t let me in!” 

More tears fell from his face, but the moment you started speaking he had turned away in fear of being held prisoner by the look in your eyes. 

You swallowed down the cries, clutching at your chest. “Seven, I don’t have anyone else…” slowly, your fingers danced closer to his, now inches apart. “I’m already attached, and I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unhook myself from you.” 

Your words had struck something in him, a chord, something trivial and crucial at the same time and all he could do in that moment was look at you. He whispered a soft, “Really?” as his expression shifted into a long-suffering one. 

You nodded, wiping hastily at your cheeks with the sleeve of your knitted sweater. “Yeah. Yes, of course. You are all that I want; your flaws and every little terrible thing you think you have—I won’t _stray_ from you, never _abandon_ you,” you hiccupped on a whimper. “My heart is _yours_. My _soul_ is yours, please… don’t throw it away.” 

By this time you were already begging, and despite how pathetic you felt because of this, you were still hopeful. Hopeful that he’d change his mind, that he’d open himself up to you and give over every little filthy flaw he had and share them with you. 

And when he made the bold decision to turn his palm up, to beckon your hand into his own, you knew that everything would be okay. 


	40. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

“**Why didn’t you tell me this before?**”

“Tell you what? Tell you that I’m dying?” _Cringe_. “I’m…Saeyoung, look—” you reached for his hands, weaving your nimble fingers through his slender ones. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I just didn’t want you to worry.”

He shuddered at the contact, but pulled you close anyway, face pinching into devastation. There was a flurry of emotions that swam in his eyes as he finally lifted his head to look at you. At the sight of his eyes glazing over, you felt your heart lurch painfully. But even still, you knew that no amount of apology, would ease what he was going through. You don’t even think you’d be able to fathom just how much emotional pain he was feeling in this moment.

He clenched his jaw then sniffled. “How long do you have? I mean—” his chin trembled, “How long do _we_ have together?”

You leaned forward and bumped his nose with yours. “As long as you’ll give me,” you whispered. “Naturally, a cancer such as mine wouldn’t be too long—” he hiccupped on an inhale, “but I will do everything in my power to hold on for as much as I can. For you. I will do that for you because _I love you_.”

It was hard to watch him break apart like this; bloodshot eyes, lips pulled between his teeth as he tried stop the tremble in them, he was barely breathing properly, choking back sob after sob. You were sure that he’d never been this vulnerable in his entire life. And it never truly helped when it was all happening in front of you.

“Hey,” you cooed. “I’m here now. I’m staying here, okay?”

There was so much water in his eyes that he just ended up screwing them shut altogether. The visible tremble in his body when he folded himself into you was so obviously that you had to ground yourself to him so he wouldn’t fall down.

“I’m here,” you whispered. “I’m staying right here.”

And you continued to hold him until he was too dehydrated from crying so much.

You stayed like that for hours.


	41. "I think I'm sick."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unknown | Saeran Choi x Reader

“**I think I’m sick.**”

In any other circumstance, the words leaving your mouth wouldn’t have mattered much. But in this moment, they did.

You were sitting with your hands wound tightly in your lap, meddling with your fingers because they _wouldn’t stop shaking_. And it wasn’t just your fingers. Your body. The entirety of it wouldn’t stop shaking, trembling, you couldn’t understand why.

Through long lashes, your eyes found a pair of oceanic blue ones. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” It was true—you weren’t sure what was wrong with you other than the fact that you simply lacked a very important part of what made you human.

You couldn’t _feel_.

There was a bottomless pit residing inside the cavity of your chest, where you heart should have been. _Hypothetically_, it wasn’t there; literally, it _was_. But what troubled you was the that you just couldn’t sympathize with the one person you needed to.

You used to think thay Saeran was one half of a whole—that he was that missing piece that you prayed for every day. You used to think that he was the sole vessel of what you couldn’t carry, what you dared not to burden yourself with; your _humanity_. It became apparent that, as life went on, he was simply not what you hoped. He couldn’t feel just as _you_ couldn’t.

He was just as broken as you were.

Of course, with time, that all became a bunch of bullshit. And as you predicted, he became attached to you. He leeched onto you, hoping to share the warmth that you brought him despite what little warmth you had.

He used to call you his _sunshine_. You were what gave him light, what gave him hope—he was a fiend for that warmth, day and night, _constantly_. The more he knew you, the more he became obsessed, and he began to rely on you as one relied on nutrients.

You couldn’t understand. For the most part, you weren’t even sure you were human. You couldn’t feel things the way most humans could, couldn’t indentify with them. Saeran was no exception.

He looked torn as he watched you shake. “What do you mean? Do you need medicine? Did you want me to take you to the doctors?”

“Not that kind of sick, Saeran.”

His brows drew together in confusion. “What kind of sick?”

“I don’t feel anything anymore,” you whispered. “I can’t feel the things you do. I can barely remember what it was like to smile and actually mean it.”

You were a completely different person now. Broken pieces put together messily, shards of those pieces holding on by a single thread of diminishing hope.

He knew this. Of course, he knew this. He was the unlucky one who had to watch you die out before his very own eyes.

“I want—” you took an unsteady breath, “I want to be able to love you, Sae… I just… don’t think I can.”

There’s been no silver lining behind the meaning of your confession. They were empty promises led by the ultimate bringing of guilt. That’s all that was.

But, even as you stood there, eyes dull and expression blank, he still couldn’t find it in himself to stop loving you.

It didn’t matter; he would find a way to bring that warmth back.

If he could do it then so could you.


	42. Lean Into Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen | Hyun Ryu x Reader

“Babe, I brushed my teeth—you can kiss me now!”

The sound of your bare feet paddling quickly across the room caught his attention way before you squealed in delight. He never knew just how bright you could be until morning came around and it was like you were shining brighter than any star he’d ever seen.

He turned around, beaming as you threw your arms around him and leaned in eagerly for a kiss. “You know I don’t mind your morning breath,” he said softly. “I tell you this all the time, princess.”

You nuzzled further into him, pushing him further against the kitchen counter. “But—” you booped his nose with great affection, watching his expression grow heady in an almost drunken stupor. “I prefer kissing you like this.”

And before he could protest, you leaned into him and gripped his cheeks in your hands as you deepened the kiss. You left him panting into your mouth, trying to catch his breath while you practically attacked him with messy kisses.

When you pulled away, you were giggling like a little school-girl with an adorable, dopey expression. “I love kissing you, Zenny.” You kissed his cheek, still giggling to yourself.

The laugh that crawled up his throat was tender and lax and beautiful that for a moment you forgot possibly every word in the dictionary. Your brain malfunctioned, your mouth went dry. If he had this much power of you when he was happy, you wondered what he’d be like tangled up in the sheets with you.

The thought only seemed to send you over the edge.

“_Jagiya_,” he hummed, voice sated. “I told you what would happen if you kissed me like that.”

You peeked up at him through long lashes, breath hitching when he dipped his head low with the look of a wolf hunting its prey.

Well, he _did_ say all men were wolves.


	43. Trace Your Fingers Across My Lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

There was the haunting realization that you hadn’t prepared yourself clothes to change into you after your shower. Knowing that Seven was just on the other side of that door, made you clutch the towel tighter around you. You felt hot all over—there wasn’t anything you could do but think inappropriate thoughts or go over every possible scenario in your head from how it could all play out. 

Zen’s words echoed in your head: 

_“(Name)…it’s not that I don’t trust Seven or anything, but if something happens, tell me.” _

_“You say you’re fine, but all men are wolves!” _

_“Call me if something happens, alright?” _

All men are wolves, but you knew deep down that Seven wasn’t like other men. From the very start, it was what drew you to him. He was funny and rambunctious and knew how to make you smile. And that wasn’t all; he was caring (when he wanted to be) and in a way… you suppose he was delicate. He had his own charms—you were hooked the moment he first called you. 

_Crushes were a messy thing_, you had to remind yourself. They were called crushes for a reason. You knew he was only going to break your heart, he just hasn’t had the chance to do it yet. But you knew it was going to hurt like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and to say you were unprepared would be an understatement. 

You breathed in. Okay, this was _fine_. You’d just walk out, tell him you forgot your clothes, get said clothes, then go back into the bathroom. Wasn’t that hard, right? It couldn’t be, not when Seven made you feel nothing but comfortable. Even despite how hard he’s trying to push you away. 

It would matter anyway, it’s not like he was particularly fond of you the way you were of him. If anything, he was merely protecting you because he felt this obligation to, because he felt it was his fault for bringing you into this mess. And it hurt. He was a completely different person in the RFA chatroom; sweet, funny, caring—it was all just a facade, you realized. Ever since he found out the Hacker turned out to be his long lost twin—Saeran, if you remember correctly—he was slowly but surely turning into a shadow of what he was.

You wanted to push him away, to hurt him just as badly as he was hurting you, but you couldn’t. No matter how much you tried to shelter those feelings you had for him, they only seemed to grow stronger with every passing second. You didn’t know what to do. 

With bated breath, you twisted the doorknob and peeked out, catching Seven’s hunched over form near the corner of your bed. He was turned towards the wall, but that didn’t stop the rush of anxiety from seeping into your blood. 

“Hey, Seven?” 

He sounded aggravated. _“What?”_

“Can you not look over here? I forgot my clothes,” you spoke shyly, softly. 

From where you stood, you could see his entire body seize up. There was an itch to turn just because you told him not to, and he cursed the fact that he had basically no control over his hormones, but he remained still—unnaturally still, at that. All he could do was nod. 

“Thank you,” you said sweetly. “I’m sorry—I’ll be more careful next time.” 

_“What if I don’t want you to be?”_

You were sifting through your drawers when you heard him mumbling to himself. Your brows drew together in confusion, but you didn’t question him. After all, he told you not to bother him—you already managed to do it once, and you didn’t want to make him mad. 

But when you had turned to look at him, unable to keep your eyes away too long, the light from his laptop betrayed just how flustered he truly was. A funny feeling festered in your chest, leavened the stammer and stutter in your heart. You ignored it as best as you could, clutching a pair of sweatpants to your chest in hopes it would alleviate this dizzying, tickling sensation. You wanted to scowl. How could you be this caught up in him when your life was in danger? It was a complex situation yet you felt entirely at ease with him here. 

Grabbing the remainder of your clothes and undergarments, you scurried back into the bathroom, having a strange feeling he watched you anyway. 

You dressed yourself in silence, though your thoughts often drifted off to far away places like how it would feel to have Seven trapping you between him and the wall, to feel his fingertips brushing across your skin as he delicately pulled the towel away from you, exposing you fully to him. You wondered what he’d do next—what he’d say next. Would he explore you with his eyes or his hands first? Maybe he’d let his lips do all the things his hands or eyes couldn’t. Image after image dominated the more sensible part of your mind as you steadied yourself on the bathroom counter, knuckles turning white as you gripped the tile. 

You breathed in with a tremble, watching the pupils in your eyes dilate in your reflection in the mirror. God, these were such dangerous thoughts—you couldn’t be thinking dangerous thoughts, not when Seven made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with you romantically. The thought alone made your heart clench, dread washing over you in tsunamic waves. But there was nothing you could do about it, so you let the dread consume you. 

Meanwhile, you hoped it was enough to staunch the growing infatuation for the boy. If there was one thing you couldn’t bare to let happen, it was losing him to foolish fantasies. Lord knows you’ve tried and tried and tried to keep them from distracting you. Sometimes, he made it hard. 

You turned the faucet on then hastily splashed cold water on your face. The iciness from the water shook you out of whatever half-dream state you were in, but it wasn’t enough to erase the flourishing appetite in the pit of your stomach. 

After drying your face and turning off the faucet, you braced yourself before twisting the knob and stepping out. With all of the possibilities running rampant in your head, you were not prepared for what happened next. 

It was a quick second. 

As soon as you were out of the bathroom, it wasn’t long before you were being shoved up against the wall, arms trapping you on either side of your head, Seven’s face looming dangerously close to yours as his breath came out in small pants. 

An audible oof flew past your lips, and almost immediately you found yourself staring right back at him. Your eyebrows drew together in confusion, lips parted in shock. “S-Seven—” your voice wobbled as his fingers came up to trace your lips delicately then tilted your chin up. It sent a shiver down your spine, freezing you in place. What was he doing? “What…what are you doing?” 

“Just…just stay still. Don’t move.” The lids of his eyes drooped heatedly before he licked his lips and dipped his head low to coax you into a kiss. 

You held your breath, knowing that you couldn’t move even if you wanted to, anticipating for his next move. Slowly, you let your eyes fall shut, forcing your body to remain still as he took his time in leaning closer and closer and closer—until he finally let his lips brush against yours, shivering at the first touch. His body went lax, expression heady, the grip of his fingers on your chin causing your thoughts to muddle together. 

The first graze of his tongue across your parted lips sent a supernova of fireworks and butterflies down your body. It was then that he pressed his body against yours altogether, movements slow and lazy as he tasted you with preserve. 

When he went to dip his tongue into your mouth, you parted your lips further, unable to stop the moan from leaving you when he explored you greedily. “Seven…” your voice was sated, drowsy. “What—?” 

He craned his neck to the side so he was able to gulp down the sounds you made. “Shh,” he whispered huskily. “Tonight, it’s just us. No danger, no restrictions—just us. _Please_.” 

You wouldn’t mind a little danger. 


	44. For You, Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

_Just stay there. I’m on my way. Don’t move._

All those words he spoke to you over the phone echoed through your mind, repeatedly and on a never-ending loop. A flurry of emotions consumed you in that moment, and the majority of them being excitement and fear. Excitement for meeting him for the first time, and fear primarily for the dreadful realization that you were in danger. 

The first rush of panic surged through you as soon as he hung up. Your mind kicked into overdrive with the fleeting thought that you should hide as well as arm yourself; you’d be able to defend yourself if someone were to try and attack you—and you didn’t want to look completely helpless when Seven showed up. If anything, you wanted to prove to him that you were capable of handling tough situations because Lord knows he was worried enough over you. 

You weren’t going to go down without a fight. 

With a quick sweep over the room, you managed to find a decent enough weapon; a baseball bat, although you weren’t sure why Rika had one lying around (it wasn’t like she’d been in a similar situation). It came as second nature when your fingers curled around the bat. However, it was pure panic that had you throwing yourself behind the bed at the sound of the doorknob rattling to alert you of someone’s presence. 

You held your breath, clutching the bat close to your chest. It couldn’t be Seven already, could it? It had barely been ten minutes since you last spoke to him, which means he should be on his way now. Either that or he had sped through every red light in order to get to you before anyone else could. Was he that careless though? You knew Seven to be a very careful man—speeding recklessly down streets didn’t seem to be his thing. 

The door creaked open. You held your breath and closed your eyes. 

_Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move_—

“(Name)—!”

With a shriek, you flung yourself from behind the bed, bat held high, ready to swing. 

But before you could do so, a hand swiftly reached out and stopped the bat mid-swing. “Woah! Hey, hey, hey! It’s me—(Name), it’s me! It’s Seven!” 

Your body seemed to have gone numb at the sound of the voice, but your eyes opened just as quickly as you had swung that bat. “Seven?” you squeaked. 

“It’s me.” He was breathing heavily, bordering on panting. With eyes wide and cheeks pallid, he slowly lowered the bat, leveling you with a softening gaze. “Are you okay? Why were you hiding?” 

You don’t know what it was, but his words had you snapping out of whatever fear-induced reverie you had yourself in. With a pounding heart, you let the panic in your mind take over. “What did you expect me to do, Seven? All you told me was that I was in danger and that—” you inhaled sharply, eyes watering. “You can’t just say something like that, okay? You can’t! I was scared—you scared me!” 

A sobering realization dawned upon him, and you watched with bated breath as his entire face fell. He dropped his backpack and took a wobbly step toward you. “I’m sorry. _God_, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think—”

You huffed, glaring at him through the blur of tears. “Of course you didn’t think!” 

He seemed to have deflated at that, shoulders drooping, chin dipping. 

You hugged yourself, trying to keep your shivering at bay, at most, unnoticeable. Seven didn’t need to worry even more, you already felt pathetic as is. Silently, you shuffled over to the bed and plopped yourself down on it, hugging your knees to your chest. You weren’t looking at him, but in your peripherals, you saw him move closer to you, slowly, as if he were afraid of how you’d react if he moved faster. 

All he did was stand there. 

You wiped your cheeks then scooted over, prompting him to sit beside you. And he did without hesitation. Thigh touching thigh—he was close enough to where you could even smell his cologne, and despite the situation, your hormones raged because he smelled really, _really_ good. 

“Look,” you sighed. “I get it. You blame yourself, you think you have this obligation to protect me because you feel it’s your fault or whatever. But—” You glanced at him, shocked to see that he was already watching you, “I’m not fragile, Seven. I’m not glass, and I certainly won’t break.” 

His eyes flickered across your face with tender curiosity, the expression was unfamiliar—adorable even. He looked beautiful up close; the thick-rimmed glasses that seemed to take up a majority of his face, the little freckles sprinkled on his skin (which looked really soft), and that look of utter vulnerability in his golden eyes that had your heart hammering uncontrollably in your chest. He was ethereal. Truly. And it was then you realized just how real he was. He was here, no more than a couple inches away from you. The warmth from his skin was intermingling with your own, melding, cocooning around you as if that was its main purpose. 

You felt hot all over. 

You averted your gaze, staring at your sock-clad feet. “You understand, right?” Nearly a hairsbreadth apart, but somehow those words had pushed him farther away. When he didn’t answer, you turned to face him again, only to falter at the look of resignation on his face. He looked deep in thought, as if he went to a faraway place inside his mind. “Seven?” 

“…hmm.” 

“Hey,” you cooed. “I’m safe now, okay? Just remember that you don’t have to be so careful with me. I’m tougher than I look.” You nudged your shoulder into his; a playful gesture that seemed to snap him back to reality. 

His face softened imperceptibly as a small grin stretched onto his lips. “You got it, Captain.” 


	45. Don't Pat My Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumin Han x Reader

You don’t know what sprung it on, but with Jumin you can never be too sure.

“Did you…did you just pat my head?” In utter bewilderment, you watch as he pulls his hand away, an expression equivalent to an innocent puppy slowly twisting his features.

“I thought you needed comfort. Isn’t that what couples do? Comfort each other when they’re in pain?” He sounds truly confused; he doesn’t know why you’re looking at him like _that_.

Somehow the furrow between your brows only deepen tenfold. “I told you that I had a migraine and your first reaction is to _pat my head_?”

It takes him a minute, but as soon as realization dawns upon him, he takes a quick step towards you, worry lacing his features. “My apologies,” embarrassment paints his cheeks red, his words fall in squeaky pants. “I didn't—do you need some Edvil? I can get you some if—if that’s what you need.”

Despite the dull ache at the base of your skull, you manage a sweet smile. And it seems endearing enough to where you can visually see the tension in his shoulders fall slightly. With a soft sigh, you grasp his hand in your own, and his eyes follow the curl of your fingers with a gentle reserve as they wrap around his. “Edvil would help very much, thank you.”

He gives you a nod, setting off in search for the medicine. But with your hand still wrapped securely in his own, he doesn’t get very far. He casts another worried glance down at you, although there’s a sliver of confusion in his eyes at your persistence of affection.

“There’s also another remedy for migraines…” You avert your eyes elsewhere, feeling your cheeks heat up.

He hums then kneels down in front of you, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “If it will help you feel better then I suppose I can provide it to you.” He is soft and sincere and it makes your toes curl involuntarily at the more vulnerable side to him. “I don’t like feeling helpless when it comes to you,” he whispers. “What do you need? I’ll do anything.”

In finality, you look up, catching sight of the lovesick expression on his face. “Cuddling,” you squeak out shyly. “I hear it can cure even the meanest of headaches.”

And if he hasn’t fallen in love with you already, he sure has now.


	46. "I Hate Loving You."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

You mull over his words. 

_“I can’t stop thinking about you…and that’s not good.” _

They sear into your memory, lodging deep into the depths of your heart. Every time you get too close, he’s already three feet ahead of you. It’s like a game of dominos. 

_“I’m dangerous.” _

A wetness touches your cheeks and you hastily wipe the tears away with the sleeve of your shirt. You feel angry every time he pushes you away—repeatedly and time after time. One minute he’s giddy and carefree and the next he shuts down when you show just so much as an ounce of compassion towards him. You don’t understand it. 

You love him. Deeply, if not madly. 

All you want is _him_. 

You smother a sob with the same sleeve that previously wiped at your cheeks, praying he couldn’t hear the sound. Screwing your eyes shut, you bite down hard on the fabric of your shirt, forcing it all back. Now isn’t the time to be weak—not when there’s a chance he can hear the pathetic cries of your heartache. 

You don’t know how much time had passed when the silent cries die out. There’s a pandemonium raging around inside of your stomach as you watch the door warily, curiously. A small part of you wants to go outside just to feel closer to him. Because he’s watching you, and he’s always watching you. If you wave, he’ll wave back and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. As if nothing changed. 

You breathe in and breathe out. 

A grumble as you heave yourself off the bed. “What am I doing?” Your sock-clad feet carry you to the door—you take hold of the doorknob, your fingers tremble when they tighten around it. “…fuck it.” 

It swings open and the first thing your focus is glued to is the CCTV where the red dot blinks steadily, alerting you of its presence. The door slams shut behind you and you slide down the wall. Although it takes a few minutes, you gather that strength to ease the harshness of your erratic breathing, and you wonder how long it’ll be before he makes some sudden movement or gesture to let you know he’s there. 

_Wishful thinking_, you ponder sullenly. _He’s probably avoiding you_. 

The thought makes your heart sink and your head pound. Tears prick at your eyes, but you don’t bother in swiping them away this time. For all you know he could be watching you right now, rolling his eyes at how ridiculous you look while crying. 

It’s pathetic. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand. You let it ring once then twice before picking up, pressing the phone tightly against your cheek. 

There’s a moment of silence before—

“…are you okay?” His voice wavers. 

You huff in laughter, and it’s not the happy kind. It’s sad and strained. “I’m fine.” (No. I’m not.) “I just wanted to…” you trail off, uncertain.

“Yeah?” 

(I’m so sick of being far away from you.)

“I guess I just wanted to feel closer to you,” you say quietly. “_Safer_.” 

When all you receive is silence, you feel that you may have gone too far. You don’t know why you’re always stepping over that line, the line that he had drawn between you. It’s to keep you safe, you have to remind yourself. He’s only protecting you—simple as that. 

You let out a noise akin to, “_Ugh_” and sniffle. “That was lame.” You look up at the CCTV then immediately turn away in embarrassment. 

“Don’t. Don’t do that,” he whispers hoarsely. “Don’t look away.” 

“Why?” 

He exhales a long breath, and you can just picture him sinking further into his chair. “Because you look pretty when you cry.” 

And somehow, you manage a laugh. It’s nasally and broken, but it’s still a laugh and it still makes his heart flutter. 

“You can’t say things like that,” you reprimand tepidly, voice strained and high-pitched. “Not when it’ll only make me—” you stop yourself before the words can fall away from you, grasping them tightly with a new found vigor, desperately harboring those unequivalent, one-sided feelings somewhere deep inside where no one can reach them. 

“(Name)…” 

“**I hate loving you** so much, you know that?” Heart pounding, voice thick with emotion. “I hate it so much. I hate how stupidly adorable you are, how caring and kind and funny—” you turn back to the CCTV, glaring through the torrent of tears, “I hate you because despite the fact that you don’t feel the same way, you still have an infinite grasp on my heart. I hate you because I still love you and I will always love you and I—” you choke back a sob, holding your palm to your chest as your head dips low. “I don’t think I can take another second of you pushing me away.” 

He takes a deep, wobbly breath before sniffling. “I’m—” a wounded sound crawls up his throat, “I’m sorry, but…” 

“One less burden to deal with, right?” You lean your forehead on your knees, blinking the tears away. It’s no use, they keep falling anyway, soaking into your cheeks, into your shirt, the floor. 

“Hey, you are _not_ a burden, okay?” He says fervently, as if he pleading, begging. He sounds completely broken as he speaks and you can only imagine what his expression looks like, likely clinging to the phone in hopes that it’ll make him feel closer to you. 

“Who are you trying to convince?” you utter weakly, sighing shortly afterwards. “Maybe it’s better this way.” You peek up at him, cheek pressed to your knees. “Maybe I don’t belong to be in the same atmosphere as you…let alone be allowed to love you.” 

His breathing becomes more harsh, more ragged—you can hear him sniffling every five seconds, bordering on hyperventilation. Why? Was he afraid of losing you? Even when he never had you to begin with?

“It’s fine,” you whimper. “I’ll let you go, Seven…if that’s what you truly want—I’ll let you go.” 

He holds his breath. 

“I love you enough to let you go.” 

Maybe this is for the best. Maybe, maybe, _maybe_—

He watches you disappear back into the apartment, unable to speak, much less breathe. But before he can call out to you, beg you to stay, you’re already gone. And he’s left alone with his thoughts. 


	47. Finding Out Your Pregnant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RFA + Saeran

— _Yoosung Kim_

He’s crying. Oh, God he’s crying. No he’s _sobbing_. He’s just a big blubbering mess of giddy tears, breath catching on hiccups as he burrows his face in the crook of your neck, whispering about how he’s going to be a father and how he’ll get to teach his child to play sports and spoil them and how much of a blessing this is for him. His reaction is enough to bring you to tears, and he’s kissing them away as he chants those three little words over and over again. 

— _Zen (Hyun Ryu)_

There’s tears in his eyes as you hold the pregnancy test in front of his face, his eyes lingering on the little pink plus sign. He’s willing the tears not to fall, but as soon as he sniffles you know that it’s only a matter of time before he completely loses all self-restraint. And he does. A color sound of happy cries burst from his lips and he swoops you into his arms and spinning you around and he won’t stop cheering through the soft cries of glee. It’s a moment to be cherished. 

— _Jaehee Kang _

Emotionless. Absolutely unreadable. You’re not sure if she’s excited or upset, but as soon as she notices the look of resignation on your face, that facade splits in two. She’s peppers your face in kisses and then reaches for your knuckles and kisses them too, all the while whispering to you, voice thick and raw with emotion. She doesn’t cry—Jaehee isn’t one for crying, so she settles for the smaller things like telling you how amazing it is. After all, it was a miracle. The two of you had given up hope when the Doctor told you that insemination would be a 50/50 chance of actually working. You couldn’t be happier. 

— _Jumin Han _

Shocked. Utterly shocked; pallid face, wide eyes, mouth ajar. He doesn’t speak for a few agonizing minutes, but as soon as you whisper his name, as soon as he hears the vulnerable falter in your voice as you speak almost breaks him. He apologizes and immediately brings you into his arms, face slowly changing and morphing into a look that’s completely unrecognizable to you. He looks beyond happy; eyelids blinking heavily, voice tender as the smile lazily stretches across his face. He kisses you once then twice and then three times before swallowing your frame whole with his in an embrace that practically suffocates you. 

— _707 (Saeyoung Choi)_

Lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. He is absolutely stoked to become a day—and to the child that you will be carrying nonetheless; the love of his life, his one and only love. He’s so happy that he’s choking on the soft acclamations that flutter past his lips in a flurry, that he’s stuttering and red in the cheeks and—oh, is he crying? He doesn’t let you get one word in before he’s twirling you around the living room as his squeals of joy echo around you in harmony. 

— _V (Jihyun Kim)_

Definitely a crier. He’s actually sobbing as the words, “You’re going to be a father” fall from your lips. At first, he won’t know what to say—he’s entirely speechless as he brings his sleeve over his eyes, wiping at the tears. He apologizes for being so emotional and then promptly asks you to repeat the question because apparently it’s still too unbelievable to him and he can’t believe you’re having his child. He feels dizzy, and even though it’s not to the point where he thinks he’ll faint, he still grips onto your shoulders to ground himself to earth. His elation goes on for hours, and you catch him smiling at you throughout the day with that stupidly, goofy grin on his face. 

— _Unknown (Saeran Choi)_

You have to repeat it a couple of times before you realize he’s in shock. He doesn’t say anything, even as you set the pregnancy test in the palm of his hand. He stares dumbly at it at first, and you can clearly see just about every single reaction flash through his eyes before his chin quivers and his eyes flutter, tears falling from the brief movement of his eyelashes against his cheeks. He pulls you into him and burrows his face in the crook of your neck so you can’t see him falling apart, but tells you he’s too happy for words to ease your worries. For the rest of the day, he never once takes his eyes off you, and when he does it’s either to look back at the pregnancy test in his hand as he stares unblinkingly at the little pink plus sign, knowing that he’s finally found the solution to a lifelong happiness. 


	48. Would You Like to Reset?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

“I’m sorry.”

He’s fading away now.

“_God, I’m so sorry_—!”

He gives you a watery grin, one that says he needs you to be okay long after he’s gone, one that begs and pleads your happiness. But can you truly be happy?

“Please, don’t leave…”

You reach for his hand, but it slips through like fingers gliding through sand.

“I won’t reset again…”

Like a fading dream, he’s breaking apart; little bits of code flittering around you in a halo of ruin.

“Just—”

“**_I’ll be_**—”

“—please—”

“…_**waiting**._”

“—don’t go!”

Your knees crash to the floor, your fingers gripping at nothing but the empty air surrounding you.

He’s _gone_.


	49. “I fucking need you more than I need to breathe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yandere!Saeyoung x Reader

“**I fucking need you more than I need to breathe**.”

To say you were taken aback by the sheer intensity of his words would’ve been an understatement. “You do?” He gave you a nod—a gentle sentiment if it weren’t for the knife he held tightly in his hand.

The nod was visceral, overwhelmingly ardent and desperate. And when he inhaled on a broken whimper, you felt too frightened to give him sympathy.

There were _limits_.

And he was breaking past _all_ of them.

“W-well,” you breathed tremorously. “If you need me that much then shouldn’t you be trying to keep me?”

It was supposed to coax him, ground him so he wouldn’t feel threatened to push himself, to harm you. Now, you very well trusted Saeyoung (with your whole life, nonetheless), but the delirious glint in his bloodshot eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses tore at every ounce of that trust. Several years ago, you’d never think to be in this position; back pressed against the front door as he loomed over you with a _knife_—who _was_ this person? Because this certainly wasn’t the man who promised you that asylum of guarded wings and dethroned roses.

You were _terrified_.

The words seemed to cut through him sharply, and he inhaled once more as his body went lax altogether. It was as if his strength had diminished—provingly so when the knife slipped from his bloody fingers (the ones that previously were pounding into your coworkers face).

You held your breath when he raised his hands, chin wobbling, lips quivering as he sunk his teeth into the skin there. He didn’t want to cry, but the longer he stared at the haunted expression on your face, he felt as if he were being unmade.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I—” his cupped your cheeks, “you’re right. You’re so fucking right; I want to keep you. I truly do. You’re my _everything_.”

There was this innate melancholy inside you, something so pure and, unfortunately, to him—_satisfying_. He wanted to keep you hidden from the dangers of the world, the dangerous of his past if he could.

But there was _one_ problem:

He just couldn’t stay away from you.


	50. Jealous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yandere!Yoosung x Reader

You hadn’t meant for his words to have such an immense affect on you, but as soon as the words tumbled past his lips, the heat consumed your cheeks regardless.

It was harmless, however, to your boyfriend, it was _not_.

You knew very well of Yoosung’s tendencies to be overly protective and possessive of you and—well, you should’ve known of the reaction it’d have on him. Especially since he was standing right next to you, arm tightly wound through your own, hip-to-hip, cheek-to-cheek.

It wasn’t until his co-worker left that Yoosung all but deflated.

An apology fell past your lips quicker than lightning as soon as his hold on you tightened. “Yoosung, I—”

“**You’re trying to make me jealous,” **he whispered thickly, “**stop it.**”

“No. No—” you carded your fingers through his hair, and he immediately dissolved into your touch. “I promise I’m not. I have no reason to, I—” the panic was clear in your voice as you tried to prevent another episode. Lord knows the boy was broken enough, and doubting your loyalty was only the beginning of your downfall. “I wouldn’t do that to you, okay?”

And it was then you registered the dull ache in your forearms as his fingernails dug into your skin; tempting, _provoking_. The expression on his face was anything but pleasant and the fading light in his eyes only told you he was slowly spiraling out of control.

You waited.

And waited, and waited, _and_—

Then the smile was back on his face, and you held your breath as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. “You’re mine, right?”

All you could do was nod.


	51. Soundproof Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yandere!Saeyoung x Reader

Everything aches.

You wake up in a dingy, dimly lit wall-less room, hands and feet tied—not _chained_, you notice—to the bedpost. All around you everything is a stark contrast to the clothes you wear; you stick out like a sore thumb. The clothes you wear weigh on you like feathers, they’re loose and somewhat fitting.

They aren’t yours.

Your head snaps up at the sound of a door opening, eyes locking onto your captor. Your head spins. “Se…Seven?”

He gives you a bright smile, all dimples and strained cheeks. “You’re awake!” He bounds over to you, practically bouncing. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” the words leave him in a breathless coo of sorts.

It rattles your bones.

“What am I _doing_ here?” you seethe, “Why am I tied up?”

He remains quiet, obviously avoiding the question. He isn’t stupid. He knows that waking up in a room (tied up, nonetheless) would startle anyone—he doesn’t like seeing you afraid. It makes _him_ afraid. But the longer he goes without saying anything, the more your expression begins to shift into panic.

And then you scream, which is to be expected.

He merely sits there and lets you struggle against the bonds and whimper in protest; hesrt heavy in his chest all the while you do so. But there’s nothing he can do but reassure you. Surely, that will calm you down, right?

“**I soundproofed the walls and everything**,” he announces giddily, tapping your cheek in warm affection as your cries finally fade into silence. “**Isn’t that romantic?**”

You cower away, face contorted in a way that twists a unforgivable jagged blade into his gut.

“We can be together now. No distractions, no restrictions. Just us.”

“Seven, _please_…” you whisper. “Let me go and we can talk about this, okay? I know this isn’t you! It isn’t!”

He boops your nose, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Oh, but it _is_.”


	52. Sniffles & Sneezes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unknown | Saeran Choi x Reader

It starts out as a sneeze here, a sniffle there. 

The worry lingers in the pit of his stomach as he watches you wither around on the bed. But he tries to tell himself that you’re fine, that you aren’t a fragile doll—you can take care of yourself. And for a while, he’s fine with that knowledge. He truly is. But, it gets worse. Dozens of used tissues pile up around you on the bed, your voice is scratchy, you sound nasally; this officially worries him to the core. 

The hovering starts out small; a linger glance here, a worrying sigh there. You tell him you’re fine, that it’s just allergies. 

Just allergies—_right_. At first, your attempt at easing his worries are a success. That is until you start coughing and groaning because it’s been the twentieth damn time you’ve sneezed in under five minutes. 

Being the overprotective person that he is, it’s not long until he’s over-analyzing things, worrying between taking you to the doctor’s and begging you to take a cold bath because—oh, wow you’re burning up, you have a fever of 101.2, and is that normal? That’s not normal, that can’t be normal. 

It’s by the one-hundredth time that you wave him off when he finally snaps. 

He needs to take care of you; every atom in his body demands it.** “Rely on me, come to me—let me be here for you.”** And it’s said with a faltering intake of breath, cheeks puffed out in defiance; he looks like a child who isn’t getting his way. 

Despite how burdensome you feel, you give in. 


	53. Creature of Unnatural Affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

He hears the yawn then the soft paddling of your bare feet before he hears the slight coquettish lilt in your voice as you approach him. 

“I just _adore_ those dark circles under your eyes—they’re so attractive.” 

A sheepish grin stretches across his lips, widening when your arms snake around his middle and chin rests on top of his head. It’s a warming feeling, something that drives him to reach down and rub your arms affectionately; it’s all very domestic and loving. You almost want to puke. 

“Did you get any sleep?” You card your fingers through his hair, smiling when his body goes lax as he instantly leans into your touch. “Do I need to force you to bed? I will. You know I will—“

“You can drag me to bed after I’ve finished this,” he chuckles warmheartedly. “I promise.” 

“Hmph.” 

“Aw, come on~ don’t be like that, sweetheart.” He tilts his head back, smiling dorkishly up at you. 

You glower. **“No. Smiling this early in the morning is unnatural and disgusting.” **You try to pull away, but his grip on you tightens. “Stop being so lovey-dovey, it’s weird.” 

His smile widens. “You’re weird.” 

“Hardy har-har,” you roll your eyes. “You’re such a comedian, Sae.”

His expression turns tender and there’s a crinkle in the corners of his eyes. “Come here,” voice barely above a whisper. When you refuse petulantly, he pouts like the child that he is and whines with as much indignance he can muster up. “_Come here_~” 

Despite the scowl on your face, he’s very much aware of how flustered you are and it only provokes him. “What if I don’t and we just say I did?” 

He huffs, pout intensifying. “So stubborn.” 

You have to admit that even despite how uncomfortable you are around affection, he is—and only will be—the only exception to the quaint vulnerability that you like to keep hidden. The yearning you feel for him is visceral, overwhelmingly romantic and you find yourself leaning in anyway; lips meeting lips in a touch of such delicate intimacy that your heart begins to sing. 

You softly stroke his cheeks, smiling shyly when he sighs into your mouth. He’s content, and you can tell by the way he keeps brushing his nose against yours every time you deepen the kiss, or by the sound of the barely contained rush of giggles that flee him when you step closer. It’s an instinct you’ll try to deny that you always love being inhumanely close to him in times of shared intimacy. 

He sighs again, but it’s quieter, more tender—he’s smitten with you, forever and completely at your mercy. 

_Gosh_, he’s so adorable. And… you _aren’t_. You’re the exact opposite of this perfect man before you and you don’t know how you got so fucking lucky with him. 


	54. The Penis Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen | Hyun Ryu x Reader
> 
> Do not let the title scare you – there's no nsfw at all.

“Babe.”

“Yeah?”

“Ever played The Penis Game?”

From where you lay, you can hear the audible choking of the man beside you. He sits up instantly, eyes widening fractionally as he stares down at you−oh and you can’t forget the furious blush crawling up his neck.

His mouth falls open in shock. “E-excuse me?”

“The Penis Game. It’s where you yell penis really loud, and whoever yells it the loudest wins.” At the blatant explanation of it, his cheeks seem to redden even more. Warm amusement flickers in your eyes as you watch him shift on the makeshift blanket on the grass. “Wanna play?”

“I suppose,” he clears his throat. “Will we get in trouble? I mean, there are kids here,” −he eyes the secluded area of the park nervously− “Won’t we be banned if we get caught?”

“Not if we run fast enough.”

He smiles at that, and the two of you seem to share the almost half-hidden gesture. “Fine,” he chuckles. “But you know I never lose, right?”

“Oh, honey−” you laugh sweetly, “it’s not about who wins, it’s about who can scream the loudest.”

He swallows thickly when you trail your finger over his arm.

You wink. “And we both know who can _really_ scream.”

_Oh, boy_.


	55. A Philosophical Discussion on Soulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen | Hyun Ryu x Reader

“What do you think truly makes a soulmate?” 

What does make a soulmate? Is it being that person’s lifeline, that person’s reason to live, to stay happy, or is it possibly a person who understands you like no one else, who, with just one look, can see the constellations in your eyes; your fears, your worries, your happiness–everything that makes you, _you_?

He calls your name–gently, but tense with worry. “Did I say something wrong?” 

“Ah, no–not at all. I was just spacing out,” you offer him a shy grin. “What do _you_ think makes a soulmate, Zen?” 

There’s a half-hidden excitement behind the rosiness in his cheeks, whether it’s from the biting breeze that nips at his skin or you’ve managed to catch him completely off-guard. “Well, I suppose someone like–” his eyes drift down to the coffee mug where his gloved hands curl around it for added warmth. “you. Someone like you.” 

A sidelong glance. A hum.

He shudders with anticipation, watching awe-struck as you bring the rim of your coffee cup to your lips, taking a careful sip. And then you huddle into his side, breathing out cold puffs of air, watching as tiny little snowflakes fall from the sky. 

“Is… is that okay?” 

“I think it’s quite alright.” And it’s the most natural thing to do in that moment; to smile at him like he holds the key–_and every key_–to your universe. “It’s more than alright.” 


	56. As Far As First Meetings Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saeran Choi x Reader

Weddings. What a load of sappy bullshit. Love proclaimed by a golden band around your finger, a kiss to seal the deal–_yuck_. Whatever or whoever thought that this was the way to mend predestined souls and broken hearts was just as idiotic as you thought. Although, perhaps this wasn’t some higher powers’ doing–perhaps this was just the way the world worked. Perhaps this was destiny. 

Whatever it was, you weren’t a big fan. 

“(Name), you made it.” 

At the sound of the voice, the very familiar voice, you groaned into your glass–champagne filling your lungs as you gulped it down quickly. Turning around, you came face-to-face with the man of the hour; the groom and husband to be. 

“Saeyoung,” you acknowledged blatantly. “I’m only here because MC asked me to come, not for you–not because–“

“Easy tiger.” He holds up his hands, a lazy smile stretching across his lips–and _that’s_ when you see him. Lurking shyly behind your ex-boyfriend (or, rather, _ex-fiancé_ because yeah–it just so happened that _he_ was the one who broke you in the end), you notice a mop of red hair, similar to that of the man standing exactly in front of you. 

For a moment, you see no visible difference beside the fact that Saeyoung has his trustee striped spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. And you want to scoff because _of course_ he would be _that_ person; wearing glasses to his own wedding.

“I just came over to introduce you to my charming dear brother−” he nudges his twin, eliciting a groan from said twin as he idles up to his side. “(Name), meet Saeran. Saeran, this is my ex-fiancee; the woman who broke my heart,” −you scoff− “and the woman who, beyond shadow of doubt, made me the man I am today.”

And just like that−

Your heart feels a little too heavy.

The tone in his voice is jesting, but you can’t help the falter in your expression. With a roll of your eyes, you adjust your focus to the obviously, very uncomfortable twin by his side. “Right,” you clear your throat. “Saeran−” his eyes shift to yours, almost oddly enraptured completely. “I hope you don’t have to deal with him too much.”

It’s imperceptible, but his lips quirk.

A smile. _Progress_.

“Oh, that’s just great!” Saeyoung cries dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “Now you’ve both teamed up against me.”

“You’re a handful,” you comment dumbly. “And two is better than one, my dear.”

At the brazen tilt of your champagne flute, Saeran’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. You notice, and when he notices that you noticed, they turn even brighter in color.

He shies away.

_Adorable_.

“Alright, alright,” Saeyoung whines. “I’ll _go_.”

You don’t register his absence until Saeran clears his throat, looking at you pointedly, having caught you staring longingly at the now half-empty drink in your hand.

You opt to make conversation, chuckling softly as you do. “He hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Still annoying.” Saeran nods, watching you carefully, almost quizzically.

You laugh at that, and for a brief second his face softens at the sound. But then you’re shaking your head with an almost forlorn expression upon your face, trying−and _failing_−to hide it behind your hair. He sees it, he sees you. And he hears the nostalgia in it; worn like an old record player, drained but still holding on with every thing it has.

“I don’t understand it though.”

You lift your head, face pinched together in confusion. “Understand what?”

He sighs. “How he could let you go so easily.”

And for the first time in months, your heart sings.


	57. Untitled #3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumin Han x Reader

Your arms were beginning to feel numb after the twentieth box you carried. Stiff, sluggish movements proved to be the cause of a very embarrassing casualty.

So you were clumsy−wasn’t everyone that way?

You were backpeddaling, unaware of where you were going, keeping your focus on the heavy box in your arm which was filled with your most precious belongings. You didn’t notice the obxiously loud _ping!_ of the elevator or the shuffle of feet across the floors. All you knew was that the box in your arms was heavier _and_ more important.

One wrong step and then _thud_−

There goes your precious, precious box.

You stare dumbly down at the box, eyes slowly widening as the (now broken) items of your childhood spill out of its confinement. A broken vase here, a torn vinyl there and−_no_ not your porcelain doll. Goddamnit!

And the culprit of your utmost demise says nothing. Not one single apology, not one word−_nothing_.

You turn around, ready to unleash the fury from hell itself, but immediately stop when your eyes connect to a pair of dark grey ones. You’re frozen to the ground, hand raised, eyes slowly widening from the sheer surrealism of the man standing before you. A perfectly tailored, striped suit; a tie to match; one quaffed eyebrow as he stares down at you in question and−_is he laughing? _

The anger and humiliation bubbles inside of your chest without warning then unravels all at once. “Are you not going to apologize?”

“Sorry?” he questions, voice oddly calming, oddly leveled. His face is blank, stoic−is he a robot? It seems the only logical answer.

You huff, acutely aware of the men in suits surrounding him; they step forward, but he raises his hand, signaling them to stop−and they do. With a roll of your eyes, you glare him down; the one who you deem the villain.

“If I’m not mistaken, Miss−?”

You _glare_. “(Name). (Name) (Lastname).”

“Miss (Name)−” he offers a polite smile, “you were the one who hadn’t been paying attention.” Asshole. Major asshole. “But, I will sincerely apologize for not saying something before.”

Oh.

You deflate, shoulders falling with guilt. “Well, apology accepted.” And, “I’m sorry for being a jerk.”

He smiles and butterflies−_butterflies?_−erupt in your stomach. It’s a nice sight; one you’re sure you can get used to, one you won’t mind seeing everyday.

“That’s quite alright, Miss (Name).” And then he walks away, and you enjoy the view his back gives you.


	58. Untitled #4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

“What about children?” 

The tips of his fingers skate across the expanse of your bare back, sending shivers down your spine and arms. Despite how breezily he asked the question, your heart still slows to a stop and just like that, you’re laughing into the pillow. 

“Fur babies, I can do–“ you turn your head, cheek pressing into the pillow as you glance at him fondly. “Actual children?” 

All color drains from his face, the delicate gliding on your back halts, and the expression upon his face is such a bizarre contrast to the usual aberration he bares so freely around you. You fear you may have broke him. 

“…kidding, Saeyoung–I’m _kidding_. Don’t have a stroke.” 

His whole body seems to let out one big sigh of relief, the corners of his lips quirking up in that beautiful, beautiful little grin you cherish so much. Ah, there he is. There’s your Saeyoung.

“I’m the only one who gets to make jokes, missy.” He scolds lightheartedly, leaning down to brush his lips over the crown of your head. Immediately, you relax in the feel of his warmth there, relishing in the surreal warmth he provides you. However, you can’t help the little stutter in your heart when his arms around you tighten almost imperceptibly. 

How were you going to tell him you couldn’t have children? 


	59. Untitled #5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

This is easy. Put pump in, hold down on trigger−_clink_.

You breathe out. Try again.

Hold down the trigger, put pump in−

“Do you, um, do you need help?”

A startled shrieks leaves you at the sudden voice from your side. You turn then_ whoosh−_

Straight to the heartstrings.

Golden eyes behind a pair of thick-rimmed and striped glasses, red touseled hair, a somewhat shy grin. He’s beautiful; heaven made, you suppose and oh now he’s tilting his head, concern painting the crease of his eyebrows as the smile drops from his face instantly.

“S-sorry,” you clear your throat. “What−what was that?”

And then the smile is back on his face; all bashful and soft. “Did you need help with that?” He gestures toward the gas pump, warm amusement in his eyes.

Distractedly, you look down, and with embarrassment, you realize the pump is nowhere near the fuel tank. You hide your flaming cheeks behind one of your hands, chuckling stupidly into your palm.

Most of the words you utter are muffled by your hand but loud enough to where he catches the meek, _“this is embarrassing”,_ somewhere in the mix. Adorable. You’re adorable.

He laughs, and the sound is refreshing. You peek out from the creases of your fingers and catch the crinkle in the corner of his eyes, stomach fluttering. Gosh, he’s so pretty.

“First time getting gas, right?” he asks casually. “Don’t worry about it−happens to the best of us.”

“Really?” you mumble, hand still covering your face.

His face is soft, his voice is sweet. “Oh yeah!” he waves his hand dismissively in the air before reaching for the pump in yours, quirking a brow. “You mind?”

With flaming cheeks, you let him take it. He shows you through the steps, reminds you to be diligent, not to rush through it. By the time he’s finished, he’s leaning on the side of your car, arms crossed over his chest like he’s just won something.

“Thank you.” you murmur warmheartedly.

His eyes flit up to yours, and it’s to your surprise that there’s a visible blush steadily climbing up his neck and ears. He clears his throat and nods, patting the trunk hood of your car then retracting his hand once he realizes that it wasn’t his car and that he shouldn’t touch things that aren’t his.

And, “You’re pretty good at this.”

And, “You think so?”

You beam and nod. “Definitely.”

“W-well,” he stammers pathetically, “God Seven-oh-Seven is always here to save the day!”

You tilt your head and he feels himself swooning internally. “Is that…your name?” you’re intrigued, curious.

“Oh!” He stands to his full height and outstretches his hand, smiling broadly at you. “The name’s Saeyoung, actually. But I prefer if the pretty ladies call me Defender of Justice!”

Did he just…?

You’re giggling now, back into the palm of your hand and he’s blushing furiously, hand awkwardly levitating in the air as he gapes like a dead fish.

_Did he just say that out loud? _

Clearing your throat, you remove your hand. “I’m pretty, eh?” Before he has a chance to retaliate, you slip your hand through his, returning the smile he’s trying so hard to fight back now that you’re shaking his hand. “(Name), but ah−” you fail to streamline your words into an actual sentence. “I prefer if the pretty guys call me _Six-oh-six_.”


	60. Untitled #6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumin Han x Reader

The first sign of intimacy isn’t a kiss. No, it’s the first touch of his fingers on the palm of your hand, it’s the timid curl of his fingers around yours as he holds them delicately.

At first glance, it’s obvious that you’re new to this kind of love—this _puppy love_. However, you aren’t sure whether that’s the right word for it. In this moment, you aren’t able to streamline a single thought into a sentence. You’re flustered. And so is he.

In your peripherals you can clearly see the warm astonishment painting across his cheeks in a beautiful shade of pink. He’s blushing. Cute.

You have the strangest desire to lean into his side—not that you’re close enough already; he’s practically molded himself into your side like a needy baby.

“You’re warm.”

If possible, his cheeks darken in color, and he shifts in his spot. He fiddles with his collar, clears his throat. “I suppose you’ve made me flustered,” —he side-eyes you— “not the first time it’s happened.”

Now it’s your turn to be flustered.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and you notice the impish tone in his voice. He wants to play.

You laugh softly, brushing the pad of your thumb over his knuckles. And he swoons. The sound that bubbles past his lips resembles a mix between a moan and a whine. Brownie points for those noises.

“What was _that?”_ you croon, delighted.

He squeezes your hand as if there is too many emotions raging around inside him and he doesn’t know how to handle them all at once. “Is it so hard to believe that you have that sort of impact on me? I moaned—so what.” voice barely above a whisper, “I like the way you make me feel.”

Your heart soars high above the clouds.

“Oh, you sweet summer child.” The words fall past in a rush of sputtered giggles. “You haven’t felt it all just yet.”

His expression reads: _oh, but I will_.


	61. Lilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

“_Roho yangu inauma kwa ajili yako_.”

The moment the phrase leaves your lips, you can feel his eyes on you. Unwavering, gentle. By the sound of his silence, you figure you’ve left him stumped—a language he doesn’t know. _Finally_, you think. And it’s not even your mother tongue; you learned it for the sake of learning it, for the sake of being able to speak it freely while your multi-lingual boyfriend sulks from _not_ knowing. You suppose it’s one of the many small victories you get to revel in.

It’s comical really. The way his head snapped over to you so quickly in retaliation, maybe in question. However it may seem, just the thought of being one step ahead of him excites you.

_“Kusema?”_ you chuckle, but don’t bother steeling him with a glance. Instead, your focus remains on the book in your lap.

“We’re speaking different languages, now?” he prompts, astonished.

You can’t help the smug smile from ghosting over your lips. “I felt it was fair—” your eyes dart over to him, brows arching. “since you do it to me so frequently.”

A blush steadily climbs up his neck and ears. _Bullseye_. He shifts in his chair, pulling his headphones down to rest lazily around his neck. “What did you, um…” he twirls slightly in the chair, “what does it mean?”

You leave him hanging, letting your focus drift to the book once more while trying to contain the creeping grin on your lips.

“Are you going to tell me?” he’s meek now, nervous because of your hesitation or unwillingness to answer him.

You flip the page. “Do you want me to?”

Then, “If you don’t it’ll just nag at me for the rest of the day.”

But it’s so fun messing with him, seeing him flustered, on the edge of losing it because you just have that affect on him. Deep down, the thought of him even remotely understanding what you spoke sends a spark to your toes. Affection isn’t really your forte—you are the polar opposite to him; where he’s vulnerable, you’re like stone. At least, it became a thing after he opened up to you. You never got to the opening up bit, you never wanted to, never thought to.

“Teasing you is fun,” you ponder. “I think I’ll just make you wait.”

He lets out a startled laugh, “Oh no—” he heaves himself out of his chair and glides almost effortlessly over to you. “That’s not how this goes.”

You’re halfway through turning the page when he snags the book from your hands. “Hey,” you whine. “I was _reading_ that!”

“Say it again.”

“Sae—”

He holds the book over his head, quirking a playful brow. “Say it.”

“Cute,” you snort. “Come on—” he holds it even higher, “Give it to me or there will be war.”

“War?” Smile widening, eyebrows waggling.

“You’re not…_ticklish_—” you rise to your feet, expression cheeky. “are you, Saeyoung?”

The backpedal is instinctual. The sheer horror in his eyes is _adorable, _almost tempting, as he lowers the book and presses it to his chest.

“How about a trade?”

You quirk a brow. “A trade?”

“Yeah.” He nods eagerly. “I give you back the book, and in return_—” _a toothy grin, “You tell me what it means.”

“_Roho yangu inauma kwa ajili __yako_.” You step forward and reach for the book, brushing the pad of your thumb over his lips for good measure and you lean in with every intention of tenderness you can muster and— “**My soul aches for yours**.”

You’ve never seen the poor boy so lovesick in that very moment.


	62. When You Touch Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumin Han x Reader

You’d been pulled from the void the moment you thought you were stuck. 

Beads of sweat trickle down your temples, breaths coming out in sporadic pants as you try to force air into your lungs. Your heart feels like a rocket, and the more you focus on getting it under control, the more you feel like you’re losing. 

A hand grasps your shoulder and you see red. 

In a heartbeat, you fling yourself out of bed and race to the bathroom, aware of Jumin’s frantic calls behind you. You slam the door right on his face, lock it, then stumble forward, hands barely catching on the edge of the tub. 

The thundering booms of his fists colliding against the door sends a shockwave of panic through you. He’s yelling your name, words catching on an wobbly inhale—he’s _scared_. 

You’re sobbing into your forearm, eyes screwed shut as you try to shake away the images that haunt your mind. 

The banging stops. 

You surround yourself in the silence. 

“(Name), open the door,” he murmurs brokenly. “Please, let me see you. I need to know that you’re okay.” 

“I don’t—“ you hiccup on an inhale, “want you to see me like this, Jumin.” 

He goes silent and you fear that you might’ve struck a nerve, might’ve hurt him somehow… until he speaks up. “For better or for worse, remember?” His tone is unyielding. 

You can picture him pressing his forehead into the door, hands on either side of the frame, eyes closed tightly. It breaks your heart to hear him so torn because of your defiance. 

_Go away. _

A sigh. Then, “Sweetheart.” 

_No. Stop that. _

“I won’t leave until you open the door,” the desperation in his voice is intrinsic. “Let me see you…” 

“Jumin, please…” you whisper. Anything louder and you’ll shatter. 

You can hear the sound of him groaning on the other side of the door. “Then you leave me no choice but to break the door down.” 

He _wouldn’t_.

There’s a rustle on the other side of the door, a muffled curse then—

You jump up, startled. “Okay! Don’t… don’t break the door down.” 

The movement stops, there’s a sigh of relief. You heave yourself up and unlock the door, peeking at him through the crease of the slightly ajar door. He smiles innocently at you while you glower at him, taking notice in the unkempt style of his hair and the fading look of worry in his eyes. 

“I can’t believe you were about to break the door down,” you mumble, completely baffled. 

He catches a lone tear sliding down your cheek, and his face pinches, tormented by the sight of your woe. The visceral movement of his feet going forward doesn’t startle you, but provokes you to open the door further. 

His arms come around you in a gentle embrace, grounding you to earth like he’s done so many times before. 

You shudder, palms flat against the bareness of his abdomen. **“I lose control when you touch me,”** you chuckle lamely. 

He hums. “Oh?” 

“Don’t get too crazy about it.” You kiss his chest and his hold tightens around you almost immediately. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

“It’s fine,” he rasps. “I’m more worried about you…” 

It was just a nightmare. Nightmares that you’ve been dealing with for most of your life—you’re supposed to say you’re fine, right? Like you always do. To reassure him because anything more than that isn’t how you deal with things. You don’t talk about your demons. Jumin does. Talking about the ones that plague you would only infect what you have with him now, and you wouldn’t be able to handle that. 

“I’m okay.” 

He sighs. “(Name)…” 

You pull away and he notices the resistance right away. He notices it because he’s used to anything but the look in your eyes in this moment. It’s foreign, heartbreaking. If there was a cause for this, he wants to eliminate it immediately. This feeling, however, grows stronger when you force a smile to your lips as if nothing is wrong. 

“You promise?” 

The question almost breaks you, but you nod anyway. “I promise.” 


	63. Ko-Fi/Not an Update

Not an update! But I wanted to make sure I posted it on this site as well – I'm very much in need of some support; If you like my stuff and would be willing to help then you can visit my ko-fi page! I've been desperate to help paying bills with and for my best friend since we live together, and what we're making right now is okay, but it could be greater. If you wouldn't mind in supporting me then please click on the link below~

[Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/sadiebug)


	64. RFA + being in love with all of them because of the resets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (minus V & Ray)

**Yoosung** was your first love, so it takes quite a toll on you to be kissing him one minute then being ripped away from him the next–quite literally too. Leaving him was possibly the worst pain you have ever felt because you love him and deep down you think you always will. It comes as a shock for the first four days of the reset–that he doesn’t remember you, doesn’t remember the sweet little kiss you shared at the party. But he still treats you with that everlasting kindness you knew he’d always have, and he still makes your heart jump in bliss every time he says something cute or even remotely funny. You still feel every emotion that went through you for that short span of eleven days–and yeah, _it fucking hurts_. But you thank your lucky stars that you were given another chance. 

**Zen** was not planned. Falling _in love_ with Zen was _not planned_. When you first joined the RFA, you steered clear of him for many reasons–one of them being the fact that he was so full of himself. But beneath that narcissistic exterior, you suppose your heart sought out what truly made him, well, him. His kindness. The way he worried about you at the very littlest of things (it’s adorable), and the way he made your heart feel less lonely inside. Because, you were. After what happened with the first go ‘round–after Yoosung forgot about you–you weren’t sure if you were ready to open up that part of yourself anymore. You weren’t sure if your heart was ready to go through that _pain_ anymore. It was difficult, coming in terms with your infatuation with Zen, when you spiraled out of control, inhaling just about every compliment he fed you, swooning when he called you just to tell you some ridiculous story he heard. And somewhere along the line, you fell in love with him–and oh boy did it hurt. It hurt realizing that you were no longer in love with Yoosung, but instead, cared for him with the exception that you couldn’t dream about his lips touching yours. You loved him, yes. But it was Zen’s hands that held your heart in place of where Yoosung’s used to be. 

**Jaehee** was your best friend first. And you knew why: you shared a mutual fondness over Zen. It was expected–the next reset, falling into Jaehee’s trap. But it was very much _unexpected_ when you realized just how much she felt like home, but by then, the resets were already seared into your memory, on an incessant looping repeat–and you realized that you couldn’t stop them. Eventually, you let your heart take over from then on out, you let it guide you to new love and friendship and when Jaehee smiled at you, you welcomed her into your heart with open arms and a smile to match. 

**Jumin** was like drowning then immediately coming back up for fresh air. A whirlwind of so many different emotions–some you didn’t even realize you had, and some you were dreading to leave behind. After the third reset with Jaehee, you were exhausted–mentally and physically, but most importantly–emotionally. So you sought out the next soul that brought forth a familiar connection; his soul was just as damaged as yours. And the two of you were determined to fix each other. Jumin’s possessive tendencies became a second skin to him because it was the only way he could keep you safe, keep you warm–keep you steady and dormant. Multiple times, he’s proved to you that you were the reason his threads were slowly but surely untangling, and in just a short period of time, you suppose he was your beckon of light. Of course, it would die out–that light–but you were so caught up in it, that as soon as it was time for the next reset, you were back under the surface; drowning, suffocating, as the water of your desolation filled your lungs. You hoped whoever won your heart over next wouldn’t break you as much as you did when you left Jumin. 

**Saeyoung** was, essentially, your life support. After Jumin, the devastation yawned like a fiery pit in your stomach and where once was that light was replaced by the everlasting fear of being abandoned. You supposed being with Saeyoung was–no doubt–more tiresome than most; he was even more broken than you and Jumin put together–how were you supposed to fix that? You tried to. Oh, you tried. But he had somehow ingrained in his mind that he didn’t deserve the love you were willing to give him. So you made it your life’s priority to break those promises he made to himself because no one deserved to suffer alone, right? He sure as hell didn’t. Being with him felt like soaring, but always holding onto a tightrope, unsure of whether it’ll snap and break or if you have time to glue it back into place. It was like walking on beach stones, slipping every once in a while, but never falling because he was always there to catch you and you would always be right there to catch him. The only thing that saddened you when leaving him wasn’t the fact that he’d forget you–no–it was because you knew that he’d be broken all over again without the imprint of your healing hands on his soul. If anything, you wanted to tell him about the resets–all of them–despite the consequences that it would lead to. For him, it was worth it. 


	65. Petrichor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

The first few drops of rain come as a shock to the both of you. You hadn’t prepared for a change in weather−Saeyoung had told you it would just be a quick trip down to the convenience store and then you’d be right back home. Of course, as you stare up toward the sky, it doesn’t take long for the stormy clouds to start rolling in.

Before another raindrop can fall on you, you take one step backwards, under a food court tent.

However, Saeyoung remains hostage under mother nature’s tears.

“…you’re getting wet.” You state bluntly, holding the paper bag of groceries to your chest.

He smiles then looks up to the sky, the mirth forming dimples pressed into his cheeks. A sigh escapes him as he stretches his hands out by his sides, letting the rain fall over him, drenching him completely.

“…and then you’ll get sick.”

He laughs.

“You _do_ know it’s raining, right?” You don’t know why you can’t seem to fathom the reasons as to why the rain doesn’t bother him−but it bothers _you_ that it doesn’t bother _him_. _An idiot_, you scoff internally. And why is he laughing− “What’s wrong with your face? It looks weird.”

There’s a certain fondness in his eyes that has the heart inside your chest beating stupidly fast. And the cute way the corners of them crinkle when you take a step backwards in retaliation to his step forward.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want to kiss me out in the rain,” he laughs breathlessly.

You squint at him. “…why in the _world_ would I want to do that?”

His face brightens and the funny feeling inside your stomach intensifies. “Would you rather I…hug you?”

“Don’t. You. _Dare_.”

Brighter than the sun now. Another step, another beautiful giggle. “Please?” −less than two feet away from you− “Your lips just look so kissable~”

And they did. The water from your damp hair was sliding down your forehead, nose, collecting at the bottom of your lip. He wanted to taste you in the rain because in this moment you looked nothing short of stunning.

“…then we can go home?” you prompt, hopeful.

When he nods, you sigh and set the bag of groceries down on the dry part of pavement. You take one step, and then his hands snake around your waist, pulling you against him. A gasp bubbles past your lips, but before you can comment on his over enthusiastic nature, he chases the movement of your lips with his own and presses a long, lingering kiss to them.

Maybe it’s because of the rain or how your soaked clothes are clinging to your skin, creating goosebumps in its wake, but this kiss is different. He _tastes_ different−_intoxicating_. And he’s bolder in the way he kisses you; parting your lips with his tongue, lapping at the inside of your mouth, tasting _all of you_. His hands entangle in the fabric of your drenched t-shirt, knuckles pressing into your ribs just enough to send an electrical current of carnal desire down to your toes. You decide to steady yourself, before your knees have the chance to weaken your ability to stay upright, by wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders.

Through the pants and the moans and the−oh, _whimpers_−you feel dizzy to the point where your body merely sinks into his. His grip around you tightens, and he deepens the kiss by moving his hands to your face, holding you _closely_.

“…breathe,” you gasp. “I need… to… _breathe_.”

Reluctantly, and with one last knee-weakening kiss, he pulls back just enough to touch his forehead to yours. His breathing is coming out in short, labored pants as he forces his eyes open and licks his lips before pulling them between his teeth.

“Is it just me or was that better than our first kiss?”

You smile, and it’s strange how bright it is. “Definitely better than our first.”


	66. Basorexia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen | Hyun Ryu x Reader

“So, are you going to kiss me or not?” 

The look of shock upon his face is weirdly comforting as the words fall from your mouth. And you’re sure that by the look on his face, that his mind is racing a million miles per minute, the words you so subtly spoke on an incessant, looping repeat. He grows paler with every unspoken word, cheeks turning the color of his eyes–_vermillion_. 

“That was–ah–“ he clears his throat, standing up straighter. “quite _bold_ of you.” _And cheeky_, he wants to add. The goofy expression you wear only proves that maybe you were hoping for this sort of reaction from him and a part of that excites him. 

“What can I say?” you coo. “I’m a very bold person.” 

He tries to deflect the fact that maybe it’s because you’ve had more than enough drinks for the night, but he can’t force himself away. When you stand on your tip toes, the pinkness in his cheeks moves to the tips of his ears and neck and oh–you’re close. You’re very close. And now he can smell the tequila on your breath, and he keeps thinking what it would feel like to taste it on his tongue and before he can stop the desire from spreading you press your lips to the corner of his mouth. 

His whole body tenses immediately, fingers flex in anticipation. 

_Fuck it._

Before you can pull back, he’s reaching out toward you, holding you tightly against his chest–lips attacking yours in a agonizingly slow kiss that intensifies the dizzying feeling in your head. 

He sighs into your mouth when you reach up to brush your hands across cheek and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear and tug on the longer strands because the sounds he is making in return do something to you. 

When he pulls back, it takes him a moment to fully open his eyes. 

“Even though I’d rather much prefer to do other sinful things to you–“ he takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles, “you are under the influence and I would never dream of taking an advantage of a lady–especially you.” 

“Fair enough,” you smirk. “Maybe next time you can, um–“ you feel your cheeks heat up, “kiss me in other places.” 

_Sweet baby Jesus_.


	67. Cafune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumin Han x Reader

“Stay,” he whispers. “I’ll miss you if you go–it’ll be quite pathetic of me.” 

He leans casually on the door, gait slightly awkward as it’s been the fifth time you’ve tried to leave the house now. Not that you particularly mind the fact that he’s resisting–adorably, too. In fact, seeing him so desperate like this makes you feel funny inside, like there’s a tickle in your heart. 

“Missing me wouldn’t be pathetic,” you offer softly. “I think the sentiment is sweet.” 

He clears his throat, trying to fight off the blush that’s slowly climbing up his neck as he registers the gentle undertone in your voice. “Then don’t leave,” he states, albeit meekly. “Stay one more night and I promise–“ he moves to stand in front of you, eyes mapping out the smooth planes of your face and body as he nears. “I won’t give my attention to anyone or anything but you.” 

“Hmm–really?” 

He nods almost frantically, arms slipping around your waist. “…if you’ll have me, that is.” 

“The whole night alone with you?” You card your fingers through his hair which elicits a deep moan out of him. “I think that sounds lovely.” 

His eyes flutter once as you delicately rake your fingers across his scalp then slip shut as his body goes lax. “So then…you’ll stay?” he murmurs distractedly, lips barely parted, eyes half-lidded. 

You touch your lips to his briefly, watching in warm amusement as his follow blindly. “Well, you promised to give me your full attention–“ you press your fingers to his lips, giggling when he kisses the pads of them, “How can I say no?” 


	68. Living Proof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

“You say you love me, but it’s not that easy.”

It’s never that easy−not with you. But here he stands with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks, confessing just about every single reason why he loves you the way that he does and why he does so much. And you’re trying to move past all the possibilities of it being true, that he could possibly love you as much as he says he does. You don’t think you’ve ever been so stumped before−and it’s infuriating.

He takes a wobbly step forward. “Is it−” his lips quiver, “so hard to believe that I might just be that much more in love with you? That I might care for your problems more than my own? Because I do, okay? And I’m sorry, but…” −a quiet, unsteady breath− “I will never put _anything_ above you. Nothing past nor present, and I will always, _always_ be here for you.”

You shake your head and he rushes to speak over you, voice frantic and loud. “No, no−I love you and you need to understand that!” He cups your cheeks, warm delicacy brushing across your skin. “I’m here and my love is real…**so don’t tell me it’s impossible when I’m living proof**!”

The everlasting ticking of the clock on the wall slows to a stop along with the thundering beat of your heart. And in that very short span of time, you take a moment to really look him−and he’s hurting, on the very edge of losing himself and his reality.

He once told you that you were the only steady thing in your life, and when he lost you, he cried and told you that the pain was the closest he ever felt to being dead.

Did you truly have such an impact on him?

He whispers your name−hoarsely, _worriedly_. “Just let me in.” He lowers his head to your shoulder, mumbling a broken, “_Please_.”

You hold him attentively, gently, and blink away the dreadful tears. _You learn to accept him someday_, you think. _And if not, you’ll have to_.


	69. So Weird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen | Hyun Ryu x Reader

Your fingers glide through his hair with unrushed ease, and he hums−almost purrs at the sheer physical contact of you. He loves it, adores it even, and you know the longer you continue to treat him with such unadulterated affection and delicacy, there is a small possibility that he will want more than just _this_.

“You’re really good with your, um, _hands,_” his voice is strained as if he’s holding back laughter.

There’s a grin half-hidden behind a blasé expression. You chuckle, tugging softly on the roots of his hair−and he hisses on a moan. “You ruined the moment, you buffoon.”

He bites his lip. “Do that again,” voice sated now, low and raw with…desire.

“What−? No!” you giggle. “You’re so weird.”

He tilts his head up, eyes crossing as he watches you tenderly. “And you love it, right? Yes? Say you love it.”

“I do,” −a kiss to his nose− “I really, really do.”


	70. Remind Me(Again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saeran Choi x Reade

“Do you ever wish you were with someone else?” 

His focus drifts away from his work, eyes falling on you as you lay casually on the bed. You aren’t looking at him, you’re looking at the ceiling where tiny little stars litter the chipped plywood. 

His brows come together in confusion, a frown tugs at his lips. “Why would I want someone else when I can have you?” 

“Why would you want me when you can have someone else?” 

His mouth falls open, affronted, and his first reaction is to argue back in the most uncivilized manner, but he refrains. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, doesn’t want to assume you’re trying to rile him up by talking down on yourself so carelessly. 

It isn’t a natural thing to hear you talk as if you don’t matter to him. You’re always so happy–always smiling. It’s one of the many things he adores about you, one of the things he cherishes–and _deeply_. With you, he doesn’t have to feel to empty, and he’s always waking up with a smile on his face because he’s just that lucky to have you. 

He regards you with a long-suffering look, feeling his fingers twitch with anticipation. “Because I don’t want anyone else.” And the words bubble past his lips with a hoarse and whispered ease. Most of the time he has to hold himself back; he’s always reminding himself that you’re fragile and that he loves too hard, too much.

You rest your entwined hands over your stomach as your features pinch, afflicted. _I’m not pretty enough, _you think. _Not skinny enough−why do you want me?_

A part of you is swooning by his soft declaration, but there’s still that little demon on your shoulder that’s taunting you, telling you they’re all lies and that he’s only with you because he pities you. There are times where you feel isolated and your mind is too full of venom that you can’t think anything other than the fact that _you aren’t good enough_.

You laugh bitterly, chin wobbling.

Saeran watches you with a twinge of panicked frustration, clenching his sleeves with white-knuckled fists. And when the first tear slides down your cheeks, his back straightens.

The second you notice you’re crying, you wipe hastily at your tear-stained cheeks. And you hope it’s enough to clip what worries your boyfriend has but then you hear the creak of his chair and the distant nearing paddling of his sock-clad footsteps before there’s a dip in the bed.

He doesn’t say anything as he nuzzles his face into your tummy, a slur of mumbled, frantic words falling past his lips. “I love you−_all of you_.”

The added pressure of his body on top of yours sends you into a dizzying tailspin, thoughts jumbled, heart racing−_frozen_. Your hands come up at your sides, startled and filled with warm astonishment.

You blink down at him, mouth agape. “Say it again,” voice barely above a whisper; small, meek, _timid_.

He lifts his head from your stomach, face completely soft−eyes too. “I love all of you,” he says. “I love your heart the most.”

You touch his cheek. “Why my heart?”

He lets out a soft little sigh, leaning into your touch. “Because it makes mine feel less lonely.”


	71. Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> V | Jihyun Kim x Reader
> 
> [Happy Birthday, my love~]

There was this everlasting giddiness in your chest as you tiptoed down the hall with a tray of breakfast balanced on your hand while the other held a candlelit cupcake. Blue frosting was speckled across your nose and neck – you had spent the majority of your morning preparing this. The ultimate surprise (which wasn’t very ultimate now that you thought about it). Jihyun would love it all the same, and _that_ you were sure of. 

“_Jihyun_~” you sang softly, the sound of your voice carrying down the hall. He was awake, you knew the second that you woke up, his internal clock followed right after you. 

The first thing he noticed when you kicked the bedroom door open with your knee was that you were a mess – blue stained apron, blue stained cheeks; you even had some of the frosting on the corners of your mouth. The second thing: you were still as beautiful as ever, and it only intensified when you knew to be at your worst. 

“Happy birthday, angel,” you said softly. 

Sunshine glinted through the blinds, surrounding you in a stunning halo, which doesn’t do any good to his heart. However, his eyes followed the sight of blue until they landed on the cupcake that was resting in the palm of your hand. He whispered your name – soft, but filled with astonishment. “You didn’t have to do this…” 

“No, I didn’t have to –” you set the tray down on the nightstand, “I wanted to. For my husband. _Because it’s his birthday_.” A chuckle reverberated through his chest, and he watched in silent awe as you placed the cupcake in the palm of his hand. “What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t treasure you so much?” 

“You treasure me everyday,” he argued good-humoredly. “There’s this endless spiral of happiness in my heart because of you, you know.”

You gave a happy sigh in response, leaning forward, and giggling when he leaned into your palms as you cupped his cheeks. “_Jihyun_~” you sang through a purr, “Shut up and make a wish.” 

The sound he made next was akin the embodiment of happiness itself as he leaned forward and kissed your nose. His voice was velvetier than the frosting on your lips as he whispered, “My wish already came true.” 


	72. Ray + V Headcanons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanons for Reader who can't sleep and asks them if she can sleep with them.

_ **Ray/Saeran** _

Your sleep patterns slowly disintegrated the first day you showed up at Mint Eye; Ray noticed the first night – being the observant boy he was. But that night was, in particular, a night that you didn’t want to be alone, and you knew that Ray wasn’t far behind; he was just down the hall – he’s told you himself. And his presence was a warm welcome to you, something that belayed whatever fears your mind was holding onto.

You were in bed contemplating your options: One – you could lie awake until goodness knows when and hope to the heavens above that your mind would shut down, or _two_ – you could sneak into Ray’s bedroom, and help ease whatever lethargy your body was harboring. Two seemed like the best option – and Ray had told you himself that he would welcome you with open arms (he was so sweet). The mere thought of even being in his bed with him made your heart spark and sputter, anticipation crawling up your skin in the form of goose flesh. 

You paced the creaky floorboards, chewed on your fingernails – your mind was a mess of muddled thoughts and anxiety. But after some mental persuasion, you managed to pull yourself together, grabbed your blanket, and snuck out of your room.

The halls were quiet safe for the shuffling of your sock-clad feet. Believers passed you on your way, nodding their heads in a polite greeting – some were even curious enough that they halted their steps altogether just to watch you. You’d be lying if you said the stares didn’t bother you. In these halls, you were the center of attention, you were the lab rat; it definitely bothered you. 

You found Ray’s room with little difficulty, and knocked – a bit too hysterically too. But it was what prompted the door to swing open, frantic mint eyes searching until they landed on you. You had worried the poor boy, that much you knew just by the sheer panic in his eyes. And you grew flustered in the realization that maybe you were overreacting. Again. In a frenzy, you confessed to how uncomfortable you felt and the reaction he gave you wasn’t expected at all. Not the downturn of his lips, not the fire blazing behind his eyes as he glared at the Believers lurking and watching in the hall – not the gentle touch of his hand around your wrist as he pulled you inside. 

Being kind was in his nature, you knew this the very night he took you out to the garden. However, seeing it up-close like that was a different story. 

As soon as the door shut behind him, the hard lines on his face softened impeccably. You were like his own personal dose of heroine – his solace. And it was obvious in the way he spoke next, the delicate sound of his words when he asked you what was wrong. He didn’t jump to conclusions as you feared he would – he was merely content in the knowledge that you came to him for comfort. He couldn’t possibly describe what he was feeling at that moment. 

But you – you kept yourself together for the sake of keeping that smile on his face. The question, “Can I sleep with you?” bubbled past your lips and you only then realized your mistake by the ever-growing phosphorescent blush climbing its way up Ray’s neck and ears. You apologized profusely, stammering on just about every other word as you rephrased the question as best as you could. Though, the boy was frozen in place, he still managed to brush it off as if certain inappropriate thoughts weren’t clouding his mind and riddling him with an appetite only you could cure.

He agreed to lay with you under the circumstance that he’d get to sing you a lullaby. And you agreed readily, so quickly that your rapid fire response seemed to catch both of you off-guard. After the initial shock, he ushered you to his bed and beckoned you close where you lay nestled in his embrace, and the soft melodic sound of his voice lulling you into a peaceful slumber. 

** _V/Jihyun _ **

It’d been a long couple of days – there was a lot on your mind. So, it wasn’t surprising to you that you couldn’t fall asleep even despite knowing you were somewhere safe. The first thing that went through your mind that night were the lingering thoughts of V; he was always on your mind and there wasn’t a second you went without thinking of him. Seven noticed – hell, even _Vanderwood_ noticed, and it wasn’t like you were being subtle about it either. In fact, the two of them had caught you tripping over your own two feet a couple of times whenever his name was mentioned, and just how distracted you became when you went too long without seeing or talking to him. You were smitten – ridiculously so. And the more observant they were, the more obvious it was that V was suffering from the same side-effects; he was just as smitten with you. 

Of course, V was more furtive about his feelings toward you, but he was also waging a battle within himself. He didn’t want you to get too close when all he knew was destruction – when all he touched turned to bone and marrow and this everlasting hollowness. He didn’t want to corrupt you because you were just too precious to him, and he cherished you a lot more than he liked to admit. 

After what felt like hours of ambling aimlessly on the couch, you sat up, now fully aware of two sets of eyes on you. Seven asked you if you were okay, and your response was a peevish groan of sorts. You were well aware of how amused they were from your misery – at least that’s what it felt like – but made no move to argue about it. 

Knowing damn well that they were aware of your crush on the man, you flipped them off before wandering sluggishly down the hall to said man’s room. The sound of their muffled laughter followed behind you, which in return, magnified your anxiety – by the time you reached his door, it was at its peak. When your knuckles rapped lightly on the door, you were surprised V could even hear it, but his soft voice carried through onto the other side. And when you declared your presence, he beckoned you inside warmly. 

He was wide awake – that much you could tell; eyes tentatively monitoring you as you stepped inside, cheeks turning red just because he was aware you were alone. When he asked you if you were okay, you were quick to reply in a high-pitched tone, _embarrassed_, but giddy by his rapt attention. He looked so soft and delicate as he sat with his back up against the bed-post, blankets pooling at his waist – the top two buttons of his shirt undone which gave you a perfect view of his bare chest. 

Fuck, you were done for. 

After clearing those unbecoming thoughts from your head, you finally asked him how he was feeling, but as soon as his face softened into that expression that made your heart melt, your mind went completely blank. You could feel the unsteady wobble in your knees when you moved to sit at the edge of the bed, feel the heat spread to your cheeks when his gaze didn’t waver. And when the silence encapsulated you once more, the graveness of your reality settled back over your chest like a ton of bricks pressing harshly onto your lungs. 

He noticed. Of course he did. When it came to you, he noticed a lot of things – your distress was at the very top of that list. 

And he couldn’t help the worry in his tone when he asked you if you were okay. And it only intensified when you shook your head _no_, hiding your face behind your hands. It did the trick though; he was stumbling over his words, trying to get them out as his throat slowly started to close up. You had to reassure him multiple times that there was no need to worry, that all you needed was a distraction – and he was the perfect candidate. 

You told him you felt selfish for even asking – which he dismissed kindly – and that all you needed was for him to hold you while you slept. Because you couldn’t sleep – and it was slowly eating away at you, your health was deteriorating. 

It seemed as though your words completely took him off-guard, and as you stared at his reddening cheeks, you wondered that maybe you shouldn’t have requested such a shameless thing. After all, he was as innocent as they came – he only ever shared his love once, and that was with Rika. Before her, there was no one else. 

But nonetheless, he welcomed you with open arms and a smile that turned you into a puddle of goo. 


	73. sarang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumin Han x Reader

“Lizzy, no! Shoo — bad kitty!” 

“Meow~” 

You sigh. “_Elizabeth_ —” 

She tugs once then twice, ears perking up in that_ I’m-so-adorable_ way. The red string is now being used as a tugging rope between the two of you, and unfortunately, every time you try to grab it she draws back with enough force to knock herself back on her hind legs. She sits there dubiously, nipping on the string — the string that you _need_ — with her cute little ears flicking and her bright blue eyes blinking right back at you. _Damnit_. 

“How about we make a deal.” You crouch down on your knees, brushing the curve of your index finger across her fur. She seems to perk up at the mention of this deal, tilting her head in the process. “You give me back the string and when I’m done with it, it’s yours.”

Her mouth parts slightly, and the string falls to the floor. With a triumphant grin, you scramble to reach for it and tie it around your hand for good measure. In appreciation, you lean forward and kiss Lizzy on her nose, which she welcomes with a happy little purr of sorts. 

You pull away with a warm chuckle and skip down the hall, scouting for your husband — who should be _home_ by now. Just where in the world is he…? 

“Oh, there you are,” you say. Bringing the string behind your back and out of view, you watch as he walks through the door, halfway through shedding his coat. A tired smile lights up his face when he sees you, causing your heart to sputter like an old worn out engine. You exhale shakily and help him out of his coat. “How was work —?” 

A squeek of surprise bubbles past your lips as his arms snake around your waist midway through hanging up his coat. He rests his chin on your shoulder, and you can practically feel his body release one big sigh as he clings to you haplessly, almost childishly. This isn’t an unusual occurrence — Jumin is only ever vulnerable when it comes to you, or so Jaehee claims. She tells you that she’s never seen him so relaxed whenever you’re around, and despite the change in work effort, the strange smile he brings into the office every day is a warm welcome. 

You laugh, stumbling forward as he veers the majority of his weight onto you. “Someone’s happy to see me,” you whisper fondly. 

“If it isn’t obvious—” he kisses your earlobe, “You _are_ the best part of my day.” 

You hum in reply, easing yourself into his chest. His hold on you tightens imperceptibly, and for a moment, the weight of the string in your hand is nonexistent. “I don’t think” —a kiss to your jaw— “Lizzy would appreciate you saying that.” 

He inhales deeply, his voice lowering to a near-whisper against the smooth planes of your skin. “You’re an exception.” 

An exception — a mantle you’ll proudly wear. 

Clearing the fogginess in your head, you shift in his embrace until your chest-to-chest. Your face scrunches up when he bumps his nose to yours, his own expression heady and fond as a slow, lazy grin stretches onto his lips. 

“It’s hard to think straight when you do things like that,” you state meekly. “Now my head’s a mess thanks to you.” 

“Oh?” he challenges. “Then maybe I need to try harder —”

He sweeps you off your feet, bringing your legs around his waist and holding you firmly against him. You squeal in protest, but his playfulness still causes ripples of warmth inside your chest. 

“How’s that for messy thoughts?” 

You whack his shoulder lightly in between soft giggles and snorts. “You’re so unfair.” The slight crease between his brows is unavoidable which prompts you to follow up with a quick, “Let me see your pinkie.” 

Hesitation and confusion paint across his face at your words, but he sets you down and holds out his pinkie for you nonetheless. Breathing out a giddy laugh, you tie the string to his pinkie then, with practiced movements, tie it around your own. 

“Voila!” 

“What is it…?” He asks, examining his pinkie with an innocent curiosity. 

“The Red String of Fate,” you murmur, eyeing him with a delicate fondness. “I wanted to show you that it’s okay to have tangled threads. This one is here to stay because —” you lean into him, “I’m staying. With you. For as long as you’ll have me, and maybe… infinitely.” 

You tentatively curl your pinkie around his, unable to ignore the candescent blush spreading across his cheeks and ears. “So, if you promise to leave this one untouched then I will promise to help you untangle the rest.” 

He brings his quivering lip between his teeth, fighting back the onslaught of tears. There is so many things his heart begs to speak at this moment, but somehow all he can truly comprehend is the unrestrained, unbridled devotion in your eyes. It’s phenomenal, really, how infrangible your imprint on him is. 

He gives you a watery smile, and you feel your world turning. “I promise.” 


	74. Be Selfish With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saeran | Ray x Reader

“_Ray_ —“ 

The sound of his giggle overlaps the exasperation in your tone, and you watch doe-eyed as he promptly situates a perfectly balanced flower crown on top of your head. He gives a happy sigh, eyes crinkling as he takes a step back to examine you as one of his more softer grins stretches onto his lips. 

“A crown fit for a Queen,” —his eyes find yours— “…so pretty.” A candescent blush unfurls across his cheeks, and he quickly scrambles to hide it with his gloved hand, peaking at you between the creases of his fingers. _Cute_.

In this moment, there’s an overabundance of emotions exploding around inside you — his happiness is intoxicating, almost dizzying.

A smile melts into your features, making them even more soft. “Well, what about her King? A king deserves his own crown, too!” And so you set about, plucking every and any flower you can find — a mixture of daffodils and daisies, dandelions and sunflowers. You realize Ray’s garden is more than beautiful than ever, and it’s partially because he’s there with you.

An adorable triumphant, _“Yay!”_ bubbles past your lips as you examine your small creation. And with a final lingering glance, you turn around to declare it with a beaming grin — only to falter when you notice just how close he is. _A puppy_. _He’s just one big puppy_, you think warmheartedly before easing yourself up on your tiptoes, quirking a brow. “May I?”

He cocks his head to the side, surprising you with a bashful grin. “As you wish,” he says.

The flower crown fits soundlessly atop his head, leaning slightly to the right as he adjusts it on his own. It matches with the vibrant colors of his perfectly tailored suit. You can’t help but let your gaze wander, eyes following the curve of his hands as they fall back down to his sides then zipping right back up to his face. The goofy grin on his face does nothing to waver the irregular beating of your heart. It becomes a nuisance at times — always hammering, never at ease, _never with him around_. It happens so often that you aren’t sure whether it’s because you have a stupid, silly crush or if this infatuation has grown into something _incurable_. Like love.

The thought has crossed your mind once or twice, but you were never ready to think of it as anything more than just a crush. Even something as harmless as a crush can be messy, so you don’t want to let your guard down just yet.

He calls your name — softly, but tight with worry. “…is everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect, Ray.”

His presence has always been a warm welcome, but it still surprises you when you suddenly find yourself reaching for his hand and entwining your fingers through his. When you feel him tense slightly and the blush darken tenfold, you squeeze his hand once and watch in awe as his eyes glaze over.

In a rush of panic, you startle forward, raking your fingers through his hair as an instinct. “Was it something I said? I didn’t mean to make you cry, bubba.”

He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. His lips part, pink tongue coming out briefly to wet his lips as he sighs comfortably. Then he goes still.

“Ray?” you coo.

His eyes fly open, a little disoriented. He leans in further to your touch, bringing his other hand over yours. “I’m just happy,” he giggles in between soft cries. “You make me very happy.”

The onslaught of your own happiness pricks at the corners of your eyes, cascading down your cheeks, collecting at your quivering chin.

_God, you love this boy_…

Wait — love? Could you possibly love him? Is that what this feeling is?

“Ray?”

“Mm?” He holds your hand snug against his cheek, salvaging every little bit of your warmth and touch. His hunger is insatiable, always rousing a greater desire with every touch, every brush, every predestined glance toward him.

“Can I be selfish with you, just this once — just for a moment?” The words are chopped and shaky and maybe even hesitant, but you know what you want, you know what your heart craves, what your soul needs. It’s him and perhaps it’s always been him.

Without restraint, he nods immediately; eagerly. “You can be selfish with me,” he says in a shy whisper. “Please be selfish with me.”

And so you take that as a win, pressing your lips to his in a delicate, agonizingly slow kiss. His eyes slip shut just before yours do, and he leans haplessly against you, already wanting more of you — _always wanting more_. Your hand falls away from his face just as his come around your waist, grounding himself to you before his knees have the chance to give out from beneath him.

The kiss remains timid, sheepish, and messy — nose bumping, heads tilting. The sounds are a bonus. Small delightful whimpers leave him in a daze, his movements become almost lazy as he leans on you for support, unable to keep himself upright any longer.

When your lungs demand oxygen, you pull away, and his lips follow yours blindly. He settles with resting his forehead on yours, trying to catch up with his own labored breathing, blinking heavily.

He lets out an adorable, “_Woah_” as his eyes find yours, pupils fully blown and twinkling curiously. His hair is disheveled, the lapels of his suit askew, lips swollen and parted, breathing uneven. His cheeks are flushed a pretty shade of pink — he looks beautiful like this.

“You taste like heaven…” he says shyly, unable to meet your gaze just yet. “C-can we do that again…?”

You answer him with a kiss.


	75. Verklempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

You notice at the very beginning stages of your relationship that he’s a cuddler. And with being a cuddler, comes being clingy, and he clings to you — _a lot_. You don’t think there’s been a day where he isn’t holding your hand, touching some part of you, looking your way every two minutes. The boy is _smitten_. 

Like now, his even though he’s deadest on creating a new algorithm, you can see the subtle shift of his eyes to your reflection on his computer screen. There’s a long-suffering look on his face as he does so too — it’s adorable. You want to say something that will distract him, but instead, you stick to squeezing your childhood stuffed animal to your chest. A sigh bubbles past your mouth, and you blink heavily as lethargy washes over you. 

It’s sudden — what happens next. 

As soon as your eyes slip shut, you can hear the familiar spin of his chair as he leaves his workstation and within the next milliseconds, he’s diving onto the bed, landing directly on top of you. The air is knocked out of you, but nonetheless — and to his convenience — you giggle. It’s a quiet, tired little thing that flutters past your lips and ascends into a high-pitched screech when he presses the very curve of his lips into the crook of your neck. 

“God Seven-oh-Seven sensed that his little dove was falling asleep and zapped over as soon as possible,” he says, voice soft and ticklish against your skin. 

You smile at that, feeling an unfamiliar rush of emotions as he holds you delicately in his arms, breathing steadily and warmly on your neck. It’s all overwhelming — _he’s_ overwhelming. In the small inbetweens such as sleepy domestic nights as these that you feel oddly raptured and consumed by the gentle reverberations of the muffled laughter coming from his chest pressed against your back. 

“I didn’t mean to distract you,” you mumble through a yawn. 

“I don’t mind,” he replies absentmindedly. 

And you’re completely unaware of how absorbed he is with you, how he lifted his head from the crook of your neck to watch you with a look of warm reverence. Dimples settle into his cheeks and his lips lazily tilting up into that boyish grin you adore so much. 

You hum. “Then _stay_.” 

He wants nothing more. 


	76. Little Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung Kim x Reader
> 
> [this was a commission for one of my followers on tumblr!]

“Okay. No biggie. You’re just pregnant.” You stared down at the two pink lines in horror, feeling the bile rise to your throat. There was a moment when you felt your stomach drop, when your whole life flashed before your eyes and all you could think about was how utterly irresponsible the two of you had been. Of course, it _was_ his – there was no mistaking _that_ little detail. But you couldn’t help the sinking feeling of him rejecting you now because it was a possibility. You two had just gotten married, the two of you wanted freedom, not more responsibility. How was this possibly going to work? Did Yoosung even _want_ children? _Did you?_

“Oh, _God!”_ You smacked your forehead, biting down on your lip to muffle your choked cry of disbelief.

The sound of the front door opening and closing registered in your head just long enough for you to hear the distant calling of your husband’s worried voice. Swiftly turning toward the bathroom door – that you locked out of paranoia – you began to panic. Was panic even the right word? It sort of felt like hyperventilating. You placed a gentle hand on your stomach, staring down at the little life now growing inside of you. It was weird, wasn’t it? How life could be created so easily? Well – _slightly difficult_ if you remember that careless (and more than exhausting) night in Seoul. Something came over the two of you that night as you remember, feeling yourself smile coyly at Yoosung’s lame attempt to seduce you into his bed. He’s become such a ladies man nowadays; you’re still absolutely smitten with the dork.

“Sweetheart?” You jumped at the knock on the door beside you, holding your breath when the knob turned. When he realized it was locked, you could already picture the look of concern growing on his face – you _never_ lock the doors. “Why is the door locked? Are you alright? Are you sick?”

Sick? Pfft. Yeah – _no_. Although, would you have been better off knowing that you were? This still felt like some dream.

He called your name – soft, but tight with worry. “Can you let me in?” He jiggled the door knob once more, and you knew that if you left him out there for too long then he’d start to worry. That was never good for Yoosung – he was the ultimate worrier when it came to you.

You gripped the pregnancy test in your hand, took a deep breath, and unlocked the door. You didn’t open it all the way, careful of your poor poor heart, and instead you peeked through. A mop of blond hair and a pair of softening amethyst eyes were at the center of your attention. Now or never?

Yoosung noticed the tears before they even had time to fall, and all color drained from his face. It wasn’t difficult to tell what was going on inside his head at a moment like this. Of course it wasn’t; he was the epitome of anxiety. When it came to you, he tended to _feed_ off it.

But you were always there to reassure him, so surely you could do the same for him now.

Right?

“Yoosung, I –”

“You want a divorce.”

“What –?” you made a choked sound, mouth falling open. He looked absolutely crestfallen as he looked at you now. You pushed open the door further, immediately pulling him into your arms and burying your face into his chest. He smelled of strong chemicals and coffee, but he felt like home. And he was warm – so, so warm. Like chamomile and thick blankets on a winter day. “No! God, no! Never!”

He let out one big breath, folding you into him with an overwhelming amount of vigor. “_Good_,” his voice was heavy, thick with too much emotion. “Then what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“Yoosung, do you love me?”

He pulled back, affronted. “Of course I do!”

“And you would never –” you swallowed thickly, “never _leave_ me?”

He searched your face for a silent moment, the panic in his eyes only doubling. “Okay, what’s this about? You keep asking these weird questions and you only ask weird questions when something bad –”

“Yoosung, I’m pregnant.”

He stopped, entire body going tense. The worry lines on his face were slowly softening with each intake of breath, and the longer you let the silence engulf you the more panicked you were becoming. Two minutes of silence then three and then –

“I’m – I’m gonna be a dad?” his voice was oddly high-pitched. “You’re serious?”

Hesitantly, you held out the stick for him and then slammed your eyes shut. Looking at him only meant you had to be victim to the look of disappointment in his eyes. You didn’t want that; he had the most heartbreaking look of disappointment.

He laughed, a beautiful sound of bliss. “Look at me.” You peeked one eye open, feeling your heart skyrocket when you saw tears sliding down his cheeks. “I am so happy; why are you afraid?” he cooed.

“You mean…”

“I’m ready for this? Darling, I’ve always been ready to start a family with you.” He pressed a delicate kiss to your nose, brushing the onslaught of your tears away with the pad of his thumb. “I want this, okay? I am with you – for better or for worse. Got it?”

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

You choked out a laugh, the tears flowing down your cheeks freely, unrestrained. “You mean it?”

“I do.” He pulled you into him again, kissing your temple. “I mean it.”


	77. Honey, I love you~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

“I _cannot_ believe you.” 

“I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms over your chest, face setting into a permanent frown. There’s no way he’s going to dig himself out of this one – not this time. No siree. Even if he is giving you those puppy eyes, you cannot give in. 

“Babe –”

With a defeated sigh, you hold up your hand, silencing him instantly. “Nope –”

His voice lowers into a coo of sorts. “_Jagiya_~” 

“No, Saeyoung.” Your frown deepens as you peek over at him from behind your raised hand, feeling your stomach tighten when his face falls in remorse. Fuck. He’s good. Before he has the chance to counter, you circle around and walk away from him, huffing when you hear his quick retaliation as he follows behind you. 

**“Babe, I’m sorry.”**

A scoff. “**Suck my ass**, Choi.” 

Oh, no. You’re referring to him by his last name, and that only means one thing: you’re _pissed_. 

“Wait, wait, wait –” he throws himself in front of you, hands up in surrender as he forces you to stop. “I really am sorry, alright? Let me make it up to you,” he pouts – and unfortunately, your heart does the little flip it does whenever he’s being adorable. “I’ll do anything.” 

For a moment, you actually think about reconsidering and _giving in_ to his little scheme, but then you remember how embarrassed he made you feel. After all, he stood you up – and it was only your second fucking date. This was a common occurrence with the Choi twin, so deep down you knew you shouldn’t be hurt because of it since it’s happened once before. However, you still can’t help remembering how pathetic you felt sitting alone at that table, your smile slowly fading. The staff and other customers couldn’t help but regard you with pity as they passed by your table for two when you were the only one sitting there. You tried to play it off as nothing, politely declining the waiter when he came by with that fancy bottle of champagne – you were really looking forward to sharing that bottle – but his absence was suffocating.

“I sat there. Alone.” You jab a finger to his chest, eyes narrowed. He cringes. “Do you know how humiliated I felt?” 

He releases a wavering breath, shoulders falling in defeat. “I know, I know. But I was caught up in work and my boss wouldn’t –”

“What do you even do, Saeyoung?” You’re on fire. “I mean, I hardly know anything about you because whenever we are together all you want to talk about is literally anything _but_ you and –” he looks crestfallen now. “– don’t you _dare_ give me that puppy dog eye look!” 

He watches you with a warm affectionate gaze that momentarily takes you off-guard, but before you can give yourself time to register all the butterflies in your stomach, you cover up his face with your hands. “That’s so unfair.” 

Even though your hands are covering the majority of his face, you can see the grin straining against his cheeks. 

_Ba-boom._

_Ba-boom._

Your hands move to cover his mouth, but now you’re able to see bright golden, and doe-like eyes staring right back at you behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. The glasses just make it all worse. You’re slowly succumbing, slowly losing power – you want to forgive him because even though you hate him right now, your heart is very much in love with him. 

“I’m sorry,” his voice is muffled as his warm breath tickles against the skin of your palm. 

“I don’t care.”

He stares at you with an expression equivalent to a lovesick puppy. 

“Honey~” he sings, “I lo –”

“Nope. Nu-uh.” You shake your head, now squeezing his cheeks together. “Just because you know my weaknesses doesn’t mean you can use them against me.” 

He is so unfair. And stupid. And so _unfair_. 

Instead, he settles for whispering it, lips puckered, eyes filled with stars despite the awkward feeling in his chest from the way your fingers press into his cheeks. “I love you.” 

You try to stop the sinking feeling in your gut as he says those three little words, but your world stops spinning for the briefest of moments. 

It feels as if you’re moving in slow motion when you lower your hands from his face, or when he takes that dangerous step closer to you, eyes darting across your face in anticipation – trying to gauge your reaction, to read you. You feel like a bug under a microscope, under his _unwavering, unrestrained gaze_. This feeling is unusual – the intensity on his face is unusual. And he’s adamant. 

“…what?” 

His fingers catch your chin and he draws you to look up at him before tilting your head up slightly. “I –” a kiss to your nose, “love –” your cheek, “you.” 

You open your mouth to repeat the ever-confusing phrase, but before you can get one syllable out, he captures your lips in a dizzying kiss. Already, you’re swooning into his mouth, right leg lifting up, up, up – and his hands come to rest on your cheeks, brushing the pad of his thumb across the smooth planes of your skin. 

When he pulls away, you feel yourself blindly reaching for his lips once more. “That’s cheating,” you whisper, voice sated. 

He hums, bumping his nose to yours affectionately, eyes boring into yours. “Let me prove to you that I mean it then.” 


	78. "You're kidding me?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 707 | Saeyoung/Luciel Choi x Reader

**“You’re kidding me?!”**

**“Shush, my mom never taught me.”**

You slap a hand to your mouth, fighting back the urge to laugh right in his face. But something stops you. And perhaps it’s the blush that’s steadily rising up his neck or the way he covers his face with one of his hands – but instead of laughing, your hand lowers and the straining expression of a smile dissipates. 

“Saeyoung…” you coo, smiling softly when he peeks through the creases of his fingers. “There’s _nothing_ to be ashamed of –“

He throws his hands up in exaggeration, brows lifting high. “Of course there is! I’m a grown man, and I don’t know how to make pancakes!” 

“No,” you coo once more as your smile widens. “Look –“ you pick up the pan and grab the spatula, “You see where the little bubble pockets are?” He nods in rapt focus. “That’s how you know when it’s time to flip.” 

In hopes of easing his embarrassment, you curl your wrist and watch as the pancake flips over before landing back in the pan. Some of the batter sprays out of the pan and lands on the floor, but the pancake itself it still perfectly shaped and unscathed. 

Saeyoung lets out a long breath, completely and utterly stunned. “My wife is a badass,” his tone is soft, eyes shifting to you in awe. “How come you’ve never told me you were a badass!” 

Rolling your eyes, you scoop the pancake up and onto his plate on the counter before adding more batter to the pan. You can hear his sharp intake of breath as you offer him the pan – warm amusement paints your features. “Show me what you got, handsome.” 

“O-okay.” His hands shake as he takes it from you, eyes darting back and forth from you and the pan. He holds it out in front of him as if he’s afraid it’ll bite him – the sight has you holding back a round of giggles. 

He gives you one last lingering look, curls his wrist, flips and then –

_Splat!_

You take one huge step back, mortified at the sight before you. You can feel the rumble of your laughter as it coils in your stomach, unrestrained. “Oh my…” 

“A-ah…” 

“Saeyoung?” Your voice quakes humorously as you take a careful step closer to him. “Honey, are you okay?” 

Pieces of the sodden half-made pancake falls from his head as he turns to look at you. His expression tightens awkwardly as he stands idle – unsure of what to do. “I-I’m fine,” he says. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks. “You sure?”

“Y-yup.” He sets the pan down carefully then, jabs his thumb over his shoulder as the grin upon his face dwindles slightly. “I’m gonna take a shower.” 

You clutch your stomach and give him a nod, watching him backpedal as you’re filled with guilt. “I love you!” You call after him as he disappears down the hall. 

His voice is unusually high-pitched when he replies back to you. “I-I love you too!” 

_Oh, sweet baby Jesus_… 


	79. Oops?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saeran Choi x Reader

“H-hey!” 

_Eek! _With burning cheeks, you slam the door shut in a haste. Your chest rises and falls to the erratic _thump thump thump_ of your heart, and before you have the chance to register all that had happened, you rush down the hall. 

You hadn’t even apologized – _stupid, stupid, stupid! _You slap the back of your hand to your forehead, feeling just how warm your skin really is. Gosh, you should go back and apologize, but – 

_No_. You just saw your brother-in-law butt-naked. _Your brother in law_. You were just glad Saeyoung wasn’t home at the moment because then it would’ve been even twice as difficult to rid your mind of those images. 

You saw his butt… _Christ_, you saw his – “Tushie!” You gasp, throwing your hands up to cover your face. In this moment, you want the ground to swallow you up – no refunds, no give backs. You want to die from the embarrassment. 

From behind you, Saeran calls out your name – high-pitched, and rushed. “What did you see?!” 

You keep walking, hands still covering your face as his voice nears. “I-I didn’t see anything,” you chirp. “I swear!” 

**“You’re lying, you’re blushing.”** His voice sounds close – too close. 

You gasp, circling around to face him. **“Shut up, no I’m not!”** Fortunately, now that you can see, he’s got the towel wrapped around his waist, clutching onto it as if it’s his lifeline. Unfortunately, the upper part of his body is still visible for you to see and you can’t stop your eyes from drifting down to where the towel sits on his hips – his very attractive, _very taut_ hips. 

He stands in front of you, body tense, cheeks as red as his hair. 

“Oh, _for crying out loud_ – I saw your butt, that’s all!” And it was cute. No – stop. You’re married to his brother for Christ’s sake. Stop that. “Now can we move past it?” 

Silence follows your meek outburst, but then he breathes out, exasperated. “Well?” 

“Well _what?”_ you narrow your eyes in confusion. 

Annoyance shapes the corner of his mouth, tugging his lips into a frown. “_What did you need?_ You walked into my room for a reason, right?”

“Obviously,” you mock in a deep voice, face scrunching up – it’s childish, but you’d rather pull yourself out of this incident as quick as possible. “I was just wondering if you were hungry.” The lie rolls off your tongue with ease, and you thank the heavens above for giving you the trait of having such sharp skills in pressuring situations such as these. 

Saeran’s expression falters, and he lets out a long breath. “That’s it?” You nod – he rolls his eyes. “No, I’m not hungry.” 

“Fine by me,” you say breezily.

“Alright. You can go now.” He quips, cheeks still tinted by the candescent blush you’d given him. 

“I will.” 

“Okay.” 

“Alright.” You turn on your feet, but throw an impish look over your shoulder. “Maybe next time you should lock the door.” 

His head falls back in a groan, cheeks turning even redder now. “Just go!” 

You laugh. 


	80. Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ray | Saeran Choi x Reader

“Ray.” 

Your voice pulls him back to reality, and when you squeeze his hand his eyes flicker over to you instantly. It’s warm – your hand in his. He isn’t surprised, though, because everything you touch ends up illuminated by your warmth. 

You give him a long-suffering expression. “It’s almost time.” 

He goes numb. 

At first, he doesn’t say anything and you know why. What is there to say in a moment like this? You’re at the end of the road where all things must come to an end. He knows that whatever he says won’t matter in a week – a year. There’s nothing his voice can convey that will change your mind, except the look in his eyes says it all. And it’s enough in that moment. He knows that you know it’s enough. It’s all you need. 

Your eyes beg him to understand – to forgive. But when he falters, you know that no amount of apology will ever curb that longing in his soul, that ache in his chest as his heart tears itself to millions of pieces. You know this is just the beginning of the end. 

Still, he smiles for you. He puts up that brave face because he knows that if it’s anything else then you will be the one to falter. He can’t let that happen because then there will be no more warmth – and he _needs_ that warmth. 

You stand on your tiptoes, letting the smile blossom through your voice. “I’m going away for a while, okay?” –he shudders against your warmth– “And slowly you’ll forget me.” 

When he speaks, his voice is slightly higher, strained. “But I’ll still be yours.” 

“That’s right,” you whisper as your smile widens. “You’ll still be mine.” 

“You’ll come back soon.” He rasps, curling his gloved fingers around yours as they hold him in place. “To me – you’ll come back to me.” 

And you nod, tears blurring your eyes. “I’ll come back to you.” 

His eyes close as if he knew you’d whisper it back to him, but he forces himself to look at you some more. He doesn’t want to waste another second because then he will mourn quite sooner than planned, and that pain is a yawning, fathomless pit deep inside his chest. 

“Ray,” you call his name softly. “I need you to close your eyes.” 

A sound that resembles a wounded animal bubbles past his lips, and after a desperate attempt to sear your image into his brain, he closes his eyes. The tears he tried so hard to hold back fall down his cheeks, but he can feel the pad of your thumb brush them away almost immediately after their descend. 

“I’m going to count to five,” you inhale. “and when you open your eyes –” 

He grips your hands tighter, frantic and visceral. “_Please_ –”

“– you’ll be happy again.” 

“One…” 

He cries out your name – wretched and miserable. “Wait –”

“Two…” 

He wants to open his eyes, but it’s as if there’s this unknown, unstoppable force keeping him from doing so. “_Don’t_ –”

You whimper. “Three…” 

“No – no – no –” the sobs shake with him until he’s too weak to stand and falling down and onto his knees. 

Your breath catches. “Four…” 

He steadies himself against you, pressing his cheek into your stomach, screwing his eyes shut tight like he’s done so many times before. 

You take a deep breath, branding one last kiss to the top of his head and –

“_Five_.” 

He falls forward onto all fours, digging his knees and palms into the dirt below him as his body grows weak, too heavy to keep himself upright. However, he doesn’t open his eyes because he knows that if he opens them then everything you said to him will come true. Except not _everything_. 

You lied when you told him he’d be happy again.

And he still remembers you. 


	81. RFA (+Saeran) + how they make love/have sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW WARNING

**Yoosung** is shy and tender. Mostly shy. There’s a fifty percent chance that he’ll try to seduce you before getting you into bed, but he ends up a clumsy, blushing mess – hiding his face in the crook of your neck so you can’t see just how embarrassed he is that it took forever to get his boxers off. He’s completely submissive – it’s canon that this boy is. Someone who will whimper and beg you to touch him everywhere, kiss him everywhere. He wants to be owned by you in every way imaginable. 

**Zen** is a body worshipper, and he likes to take his time with you. He’s agonizingly slow – likes to tease you (and sometimes be teased) when he has sex. He is the captain and your body is the ocean; there’s nothing much more than that. He’s rapt when it comes to loving you; utter focus, raw voice as he explains in great detail what he’s going to do to you. Foreplay is a big turn-on for him – he loves hearing you moan and whimper his name, beg him to fuck you senselessly – endlessly. And when you get him worked up enough, he’ll take you from behind and have you drained before ordering that you ride his face. 

**Jaehee** is a fan making out until you’re both moaning into each other’s mouths. She’ll grope and squeeze just about anything her hands can reach, and leaving little bite marks on your neck is her specialty. With you, she never holds back – and if you get enough alcohol in her system, she isn’t afraid to ride you until you’re too weak to even stand. She absolutely loves it when you ride her face, and vice versa; eating you out is one of her weaknesses and it only provokes her for _round two_. 

**Jumin** is canonically into BDSM, so I think we can all agree that he can get a little spontaneous during sex. He takes pleasure in tying you up to the bedpost and teasing you between your legs. He’ll do just about anything to have you screaming out his name until you can no longer do so. Paddles and whips are a big _YES_ in his dictionary; he’ll turn you over on his knee and spank you until your ass is swollen and welted. And then, if you’re good, he’ll let you have your turn with him – he absolutely loves being able to look down and see your head bobbing while your mouth is wrapped about his cock. It drives him wild. 

**Saeyoung** is sadistic, so when it comes to sex, he likes to be a little rough. Never too rough though – he’ll never intentionally injure you. He prefers to pull at your roots, squeeze your asscheeks, slap your pussy until your quaking underneath him _BUT_ he can also be extremely gentle with you. He’s only ever his sadistic-self when you ask him to be, so other than that, the boy is an absolute angel when it comes to fucking you. Marrs your skin with little lovebites; in between your thighs is where he’s deemed his canvas, his lips the brush. He loves eating you out just so you can pull at his roots and smother his face with your cum. He takes his time with you; slowly – agonizingly slow, but gentle all the same. 

**Jihyun** is much like Yoosung when it comes to making love to you. He prefers to have you on top because – yes, surprise – he’s completely submissive. He’s cried at least twice during an orgasm; you were riding him from above, palms planted on his chest, breasts jiggling deliciously for him to see. His hands were gripping your ass, steadying you against his cock, and with each thrust of his hips, he swore he could see stars. He loves hearing you moan, too – that’s a huge turn-on for him. Oh, and the sounds he makes? Heavenly. Whimpers, moans, _grunts_ – the whole nine yards. He’s never been a big fan of you giving him a blow job because he feels that it’s too dirty and he only ever wants to be gentle with you (bless his sweet innocent heart). You always forget that you’re the first one he’s been with since Rika, so you always enjoy pleasuring him to the point of insanity. The first time you saw him come utterly undone was when you gave him his first hand-job. He was red-faced all the way through it, but you couldn’t forget the way his eyes basically rolled to the back of his head when he came into your palm. He still blushes every time you bring it up. 

**Saeran** is – believe it or not – very shy and hesitant when it comes to loving you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so his thoughts are wired to be extremely gentle when he touches you. You have to reassure him that you’re not glass sometimes, but he’s still wary because you’re just too precious to him and he doesn’t trust himself. He starts out soft – especially soft to the point where you can barely feel the brush of his lips upon your skin. You usually have to guide his hands to the places you want him to touch you; he’s inexperienced from how badly he was sheltered as a child – so he’s very, very cautious. He’s someone who is dependent, but he’s also perceptive and knows when you want something and where you want it. He’s always astonished by the reactions your body gives him with each touch of his fingertips; how your back arches when he finger fucks you into oblivion, how your legs spread wider as he eats you out until your mewling. He’s always learning about you.


	82. Flux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saeran Choi | Ray/Unknown x Reader
> 
> Note: If you find this confusing, that’s okay. You’re reading it right—time travel is supposed to be confusing! P.s. this is anticipation at it’s finest and Saeran is mentioned but does not appear. He appears in the second part!

Age eighteen.

You’re incognito at Mint Eye, working alongside Jihyun Kim—he’s the man who knows more than he tells you he does. The man with the sorrow in his eyes, even when he smiles. But here’s the thing: you know what he knows, what burdens he’s trying to shoulder without anyone to help carry the load. A man of mystery. A man with a past.

Along with being the most secretive woman in the world—and ballsiest—you know that the reason you are here isn’t to help Jihyun, but instead help the boy who means the world to him. Saeran Choi: the boy who will be saved.

You meet him first as Ray, his more gentle persona. It’s the one you fall in love with—a humdrum of _all fucking humdrums_. Jihyun warned you not to let your guard down even for a split second. You fell for him hard; _face-planting-on-the-pavement_ hard. And at first, you weren’t subtle about it at all—jealousy became a close friend, melancholy too. He spent most of his time training the newest recruit—MC, they called her. She stole just about every waking minute of your time with him and you hated her for it. Of course, she had no idea who you were, and thank _goodness_ for that. She really didn’t need to know about you. You were breaking the laws of time by just being there around him, so you weren’t keen on breaking anymore. You’re already pushing past the limited time barriers.

An incessant buzzing coming from your phone brings your focus back to reality. The sound of your muffled curses brings unwarranted attention to you, and you throw yourself down the hall. You fumble around for your phone in the pocket of your Mint Eye robe. It’s V. He’s probably worried since you hadn’t messaged him in hours due to sneaking around aimlessly down the castle halls.

You answer immediately. “I’m fi—”

_“Where are you?”_ his whispers into the receiver.

“You know where I am, V…” your brows furrow in confusion, “Wait. Why are you whispering?”

_“You need to get out of here. Rika’s found me and I don’t know when she’ll be back.” _

Your heart drops down to your stomach. Shit. It’s too soon—she’s not supposed to have found him yet. Not yet, not yet, _not_ _fucking yet_. Mortified, you glance down at the watch on your wrist and make a sound that’s halfway to a groan and a whimper. “V, I can’t leave Saeran here. I was supposed to take him back with me today—_tonight!_ **I don’t have much time left** either and,” you inhale sharply. “You told me to protect him, and goddamnit, I am _not_ breaking that promise.”

He whispers your name—urgently, but tense with panic. “_If you stay here then there will be no point in saving him now_,” his voice fades in and out through the receiver, becoming garbled. “_…need to…**now**_…” and then the line goes dead, and you’re met with nothing but static.

“Fuck!” you taste the saltiness of the sudor dripping down your forehead and cheeks. Taking a look around, you realize that this will be much harder than you thought. Will Saeran come back with you even if you tell him the truth? Aggravated, you hurl your cellphone at the opposite wall and cringe when it shatters into billions of tiny pieces. Your hands shake as you curl them into fists, praying that he’ll believe you. If not for your sake then for his brother’s sake. And with a sigh, you uncurl your fist and stare longingly down at the golden band around your ring finger. He has to believe you. Right?

You twirl the golden band once then blink back the tears. “Wait for me.”


	83. Flux Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saeran Choi | Unknown/Ray x Reader

Age twenty-one.

You look around the quarters, eyes darting over every trenched robe you see. Where is he? You’re slowly running out of the time the longer you stand here—_waiting_. The frantic hustle and bustle around you blurs before you as tears prick at your eyes. You have to force air into your lungs as your knees shake with anxiety. The last time you’d been here was, technically, three years ago, but it felt like only hours had went by.

You look down at your watch, a habit, and hold your breath as you realize the minutes quickly ticking by. Saeran’s supposed to have his nightly stroll by now, down these particular halls, but he is nowhere in sight. It hasn’t happened yet, has it? He isn’t stupid enough to blow the place up with all these Believers in it, is he? You can’t put it past Saeran—_Ray_, you remind yourself nervously. He’s unstable. It’s _**day ten**_ and everything that’s going through that boy’s head cannot be any worse than what you’re fearing.

Keeping your head down and your hood pulled over in attempt to shield your face, you push past the onslaught of Believers surrounding you, rushing to leave Mint Eye. They must be confused, more confused than anything. Of course they are—they were brainwashed for years by that, that _bitch_. Even at the slightest mention of her and your blood is already boiling, your skin burning. _What you’ll give to wrap your hands around her pretty little neck_. A sudden invisible force stops you in your tracks, and you immediately survey the area. There’s all but two other Believers with you inside the building. They’re speaking to each other frantically and—_wait_.

_Whoosh_—

Something rustles your hair and your spine straightens reflexively. You circle around with one name on the tip of your tongue: _“Ray?”_ At the dead-end of the hall, you see his magenta coat flapping in the slight breeze as he grips onto the trigger of the bomb that will level this entire building. You take one step forward and he takes one step back, his face a mask of utter horror.

“Ray… _what are you doing?” _

“_You_…” His face scrunches up in confusionn tears streaming down his cheeks. “You’re back.”

You see your opening, acting instantly. “Of course I’m back. I came here for you—I promised you, didn’t I? I _promised_,” your eyes dart between the trigger in his gloved hand and his mint green eyes. “I always keep my promises.”

Hos brows pull together, a frown tugs at his lips. “But, you…”

“I know.” You nod. “I know you know, alright? And it’s okay—” you take unnoticeably small steps, nearing him with every word you speak. “I’m gonna be right here. Let me h-help you…” you curse the waver in your tone. “_Please_.”

He takes another step backwards, and you panic. _“No!”_ he chokes out, eyes widening. “No, you have to go to him! V needs you—you don’t understand! I-I can’t move on unless you do!” His thumb hovers over the red button as his back collides with the wall behind him.

Your mouth falls open, stunned into silence. The aftermath of his confession sends you reeling, your chest aching. You shake your head and blink away the tears. “No,” you whisper. “No, that’s not how this is supposed to end, I—” you pause, choosing your next words wisely. “I love you… _Saeran_.” For a moment, something shifts in his expression. It’s unfathomable yet you can see just about every reaction shine in them; the most prominent being his happiness. “So, don’t tell me to leave you; _I won’t_.” _I was sworn to protect you with my life_. The words lodge themselves in your throat as you watch him struggle with the demons in his head. You’re prepared for anything at this point. Unknown can’t scare you anymore, can’t hurt you.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” he mewls, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “But you should know that **it doesn’t matter who you choose, I will _always_ love you**.”

And, “Saeran, _wait_—”

Then, “We’ll meet again, my angel.”

It happens too fast; his wavering, teary-eyed grin, the push of the trigger, the explosion that suffuses your skin inch-by-inch, then _nothing_. However, it doesn’t take long for conscious to rebuild itself over, patch up your physical and mental scars. When you wake again, the feel of the sheets beneath you feel like molten lava against your skin. You probably have a fever. By the twentieth reset you aren’t surprised that the aftermath of your endless deaths have started to take a toll on you.

You blink back the tears and swipe at the tears on your face. “Well, this is it…” You reach up, determined as your fingers hover beneath the familiar holographic button. “Wait for me, Saeran.”

_Would you like to reset?_


	84. Liquid Courage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zen | Hyun Ryu x Reader

For the first time in his life, Zen doesn't know what to do.

"Zenny~"

He watches in mild bewilderment as you sink into his lap and latch your arms around his neck. You smell of strawberries and wine—a dangerous combination for someone as pretty as you. No. You aren't just pretty, tonight you are the only one who's clinging to him. You—the same girl he had dreams about ever since you showed up in their chatroom.

When he looks up at you, he feels his head go fuzzy and his tummy feels warm. Only you have the power to turn him into an absolute fool.

He cocks one brow, lifting his lips in a soft smile. "Yes, Jagiya?" You giggle and it's like music to his ears. "You seem really happy tonight."

"I am!" You chirp, leaning your head on his shoulder, unaware of the stars in his eyes as he watches you practically snuggle into him. "Jumin gave me some wine, you should try some."

The name tightens a fiery leash of jealousy around his neck and he clears his throat. "Wine isn't my thing."

"Beer is?" He hums in reply to your question, brushing his thumbs tenderly over your thigh and laughing when your face scrunches. "But beer isn't as good as wine. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and my skin gets all hot—you're really warm. And fuzzy. Hey, Zen? I think I have something to tell you."

He looks down at you, trying to understand your drunken mumbles as your cheek presses further into his shoulder. You're so cute like this. With him. In his lap.

You blink up at him, brows furrowing. "I think I've mustered up all the liquid courage I could muster..."

"Jagiya? Is everything alri—"

"I like you. No—_wait_." His heart drops down to his stomach, his face blanches. But then a lopsided grin tilts across your lips. "I think I love you, really..." He opens his mouth to reply, feeling every muscle in his body tense at your delicate confession, but you cut him off once more. "Love is... well, it's stupid really. Overrated. Bland, and in my opinion—not that it matters—unnecessary." You hadn't noticed, but with each word you spoke it felt like a stab of pain. "_But_..."

"But?" he squeaks out, feeling his cheeks turn red when you boop his nose.

"With you, that isn't the case."

He whispers an adorable, "Yeah?" And now he's feels himself melting into a puddle of goo. He doesn't hear himself laugh because his heart is beating too loud, but he feels that warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest.

You nod brazenly, wearing a triumphant smile. And, "You're always changing me, Hyun." A kiss to his chin. "Always."


	85. Squishy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saeran Choi x Reader

“Squishy.”

“Eh?”

A huff. Then, _“Squishy__!”_

Saeran’s eyes dart over to you at your exaggerated exclamation. The image of you on your stomach and on his bed with your hands reaching out desperately sends his heart reeling in awe.

Oh, oh boy—you’re adorable. _Too adorable_. Is his heart supposed to feel this way? It’s almost a suffocating feeling, as if he’s trying to hold back _everything_.

“What do you want?” he asks, not unkindly. You clench your fingers in a grabb-y motion, unintentionally giving him one of your more precious puppy dog eye look. The one that just so happens to be the one that seduced him into bed with you on your wedding night. His cheeks erupt in a deep scarlet. “…_stop_ _that_.”

You grin. _Cheeky_. “Stop what?”

“T-that,” he sputters. “With the eyes—the puppy dog eyes.” _It isn’t good for his heart_.

“I just want cuddles,” you pout. “Why are you so edgy?”

He laughs, astonished. “_Edgy?_ What about me is edgy?”

“_Everything_, sweetheart.”


End file.
